Look My Way
by bird by snow
Summary: A John/Claire story that picks up where the movie left off, and explores what might have happened. It's about life, fairytales, and the obstacles faced when trying to hang on to a transient relationship.
1. Chapter 1

_**Sunday, March 25**__**th**__**, 1984**_

Claire Standish stepped out of the shower on Sunday morning and slipped on her bathrobe. As she towel dried her hair, she heard the phone in her bedroom ring. Claire walked across the room and picked up the cordless receiver. "Hello?"

It was her friend Ashley. "Hey, it's me," Ashley said. "Do you want go out for brunch?"

"I can't. I'm still grounded."

"_Still_? Next time get a note from Daddy like I did."

"To go shopping? My father would never go for it," Claire said as she searched through her dresser drawer for some nail polish. "Although my mother probably would, just to spite him." She found the exact shade of pink she was looking for and sat down on her bed.

"That's how you work the system," Ashley agreed.

"Yes, but that would require talking to my mother." Claire frowned at the thought. Nothing good ever came from conversing with her mother.

"Getting the latest spring fashions before everyone else is going to require some sacrifices on your part," Ashley said.

"I guess."

"You guess? What's with you?"

Claire rested the phone receiver on her shoulder and uncapped the bottle of nail polish. "I'm kind of tired. I didn't get much sleep last night." _'I spent way too much time thinking about things,' _she thought.

"Should I be worried?" Ashley asked.

"No. It was just one of those days yesterday."

"How _was_ detention? As horrible as it sounds?"

Claire wondered how she should answer. _'Why, no, Ashley, it wasn't horrible. It was actually life altering. I met some new people, changed my perceptions, and made out with John Bender.' _Ashley would probably have a heart attack if she said that. "Yeah, it was pretty lame," she replied.

Ashley changed the subject to something more pleasant. "You missed an awesome party last night at Stubby's," she said. "Everyone was asking where you were."

"Oh?"

"Totally. Carrie decided to tell everyone that you were on a date with a hot college frat boy, though. Just a heads up."

Claire smiled. Carrie had a unique sense of humor. "Thanks," she said. "Hey, by any chance did you see Andy Clark there last night?"

Ashley thought for a moment. "No. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious."

"Do you like him or something?"

"No, but he was in detention yesterday and we were talking about the party. I wondered if he showed."

"Well, sadly he didn't, but Tony was there, and you know how Denise gets when she's in the same room with him. Of course she had to vie for his attention because Michelle Manning was hanging around him too."

Claire inspected her freshly painted toenails and feigned interest in the conversation. "What a drag," she commented.

"I know, totally," Ashley rambled on, "She has her own boyfriend, she doesn't have to hog all the single guys too."

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Sunday morning found John Bender still in bed. He woke up to the sound of a loud crash from down the hall and the angry voices that followed it.

"I need those!" John heard his mother shout.

"Of course you do, you worthless junkie whore! Maybe you should worry more about the goddamn mess in the kitchen than your fucking pills!" His father yelled.

John adjusted the headphones of his Walkman that had slipped off his ears while he was sleeping and flipped the tape over.

"Why don't you just fucking leave? Get out! Get the fuck out!" His mother screamed. John didn't hear anything after that because the sounds of Iron Maiden drowned them out.

A few hours later, he emerged from his room, carrying his guitar. He saw that his mother was on the livingroom floor, slumped against the couch. His father appeared to have left, for the time being. He thought about just slipping out through the back door because this was the thing he dreaded most, checking to see if his mother was still alive after she downed her pills.

Luckily for John, she groaned and her hand flopped to her side, indicating that she was in fact still conscious. "Johnny? Help me Johnny." John set his guitar case down and went to her side and helped her up on to the couch. "It wasn't always like this you know. We used to be a happy family," she mumbled.

"Yeah, I remember," said John.

"Wassa long time ago," she slurred. "Before the accident."

"I know."

She turned to John suddenly and asked, "Do you think he blames me?"

They had had this conversation before. "No, Ma. He wasn't like that," he reassured her.

"Good," she said as she drifted off to sleep.

John slung his guitar case over his shoulder and started his long walk to the McNally house. Pete McNally and his older brother, Eric, were long time friends of John's. Their fathers had served in the Vietnam War together and they used to play together as kids. Two years ago, Eric started a rock band and he recruited Pete to play bass and John to play guitar. One of Eric's friends, Robbie, played drums. They started by playing mostly covers, but were trying to write their own music. Eric's dream was to make it big so he could quit his job as a car mechanic. Unfortunately, the band had only had mild success playing at various parties and a couple of clubs so far. Still, they practiced diligently whenever they could.

Pete greeted him at the front door. "Bender! Glad you finally showed your sorry ass. You know, we had to re-arrange our busy schedules because of your detention, you could at least be on time," he joked.

John smirked. "Busy schedules my ass."

"Everyone's downstairs already. Eric had to re-string his guitar, so we haven't actually played anything yet." Pete led John through the house and down into the finished basement.

"Hey, Bender," Eric called as he was tuning his newly strung guitar, "I wrote some new music." He pointed to the sheet music on the coffee table. "You'll have to tell me what you think. It's a little different from what we're used to playing, but every great rock band has a ballad."

"He claims this is going to be our 'Stairway to Heaven'," Pete said, rolling his eyes.

John glanced at the sheet music. "I can't fucking read that, man."

Eric stood up and plugged in his guitar. "Yeah, no shit. That's why I'm going to play it for you."

John sat on the couch and waited for Eric to start. As he played, John closed his eyes and listened. Eric was right, it _was_ different. It wasn't as heavy as the songs they normally played, but it was pretty catchy. They would need to come up with just the right lyrics if it was going to be a hit. Eric was good at composing, but writing lyrics was best left to the other members. John found that his home life was good inspiration for providing rage filled lyrics. He didn't know what he could come up with for this slow song, though.

When the song ended, John opened his eyes and saw Eric looking at him expectantly. "Well?" he asked. "What did you think?"

"It was good. I think you kind of rushed the beginning though," John said.

"Yeah," Pete added, "It should start off slow and then get harder. Not too fast though."

"We need some killer lyrics to go with it," Eric said.

"They should be about a girl," Robbie commented. The rest of the band stared at him. "What?" he asked.

"I don't want it to turn into a fucking _power_ ballad!" Eric exclaimed.

"Power ballads are a fucking classic staple of rock!" Robbie argued. "People eat them up. Especially girls. It shows them you have a tender side." Robbie looked at the stares he was getting again and waved them off. "Whatever man, it's your song. Do what you want."

Eric gave up arguing and went back to playing the new song, changing what the others had suggested. John sat and listened so he would be able to play along, but he found that his thoughts kept drifting to Claire. He frowned. Everything was different now. He knew when they kissed in front of the school that he was done for. He couldn't imagine ever wanting another woman as much as he wanted Claire. She had done something to him when she gave him her earring. It was like she had said it was okay for them to be together. He couldn't imagine though, how Monday would turn out. There was no way Claire had been serious, right?

John shook off the negative thoughts and decided to show up early on Monday and see how things played out. At the very least, he thought maybe he could cause trouble for her with her richie friends.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Monday, March 26**__**th**__**, 1984**_

Claire woke up on Monday morning with a hopeful heart and butterflies in her stomach. As she walked past her dresser, Claire looked down at her remaining diamond stud sitting on black velvet lining of her jewelry box. She smiled and felt a warm sensation fill her. She had made four new friends on Saturday, she had opened up, and she was different. She was going to prove them wrong today. She was going to be a better person starting now. Things at school were going to be different, she was going to stand up to her friends and tell them she didn't care what they thought. At least, that was the plan.

Claire walked downstairs and into the kitchen where she saw that Mrs. Nakamura was preparing breakfast. Mrs. Nakamura was the Standish family's housekeeper. She had been with them for almost twenty-five years and had lived a room in the East wing of their house since her husband died. Besides light cooking and cleaning duties, she was responsible for overseeing all of the hired help.

"Good morning, Mrs. Nakamura," Claire said brightly.

"Ohayo." Mrs. Nakamura looked up from pouring a cup of coffee. "You look happy today," she observed.

Claire smiled. "I am."

"What would you like for breakfast?" Mrs. Nakamura asked.

"I don't think I could eat anything this morning," Claire said, still feeling the butterflies in her stomach, "Maybe just a glass of juice?" She down sat at the kitchen island.

Mrs. Nakamura poured Claire a small glass of apple juice and placed it in front of her. "Do you need a ride to school?" she asked.

Claire took a sip of her juice. "No, Carrie's going to pick me up," she answered. She wondered if she should tell Carrie about John first, or tell her friends as a group. Her stomach flip-flopped again and she excused herself to go wait out on the front step for her friend.

When Carrie pulled her light blue Corvette into the driveway and waved, Claire decided that she would wait until later to bring up John. She thought about him the whole way to school. Her new fear was that even though she wanted to be with him, he wouldn't want to be with her. Claire rested her head against the window. It was going to be a long day.

When they arrived at school, Claire grabbed her books from her locker and closed the door. Carrie was still exchanging items from her bag, so Claire chanced a nervous glance around the hall to see if any of the Breakfast Club members were there.

"Who are you looking for?"

"Huh?" Claire looked back and saw that Denise had arrived and was waiting for an answer from Claire. "Oh...just someone I met on Saturday," she said.

"Is he cute?" Carrie asked, closing her locker.

"How do you know it's a he?" Claire asked.

"You've been a total space case since I picked you up, it's obvious you've got a guy on your mind," Carrie explained. "Now tell us all about him."

"He's—" Claire paused and wondered how to describe John. "Charismatic... always says what's on his mind... He's really unlike anyone else I've met."

"Well that's important too, but is he cute?" Denise asked.

Claire smiled dreamily and said, "Very."

Carrie pointed accusingly at Claire. "Oh my god!" she exclaimed, "I know that look!"

Claire panicked. "What look?"

"That 'I am so head over heels in love with this guy' look," Carrie said knowingly. Denise nodded in agreement.

Claire rolled her eyes and said casually, "It's so not like that." But she could tell that they weren't convinced.

"C'mon, let's go find Ashley, she'll want to hear about your new crush," said Denise.

Claire wasn't paying attention to Denise because she had just spotted John with two other guys standing by a group of lockers on the other side of the hallway. Carrie tugged on Claire's sleeve, bringing her out of her thoughts. "Huh? Oh right, let's find Ashley." The only problem being that to get to Ashley's locker, they would have to pass by John and his friends.

As they approached his group, Claire felt her chest tighten and she felt short of breath. Her heart raced as they got even closer. She wasn't ready for this. She couldn't talk to him now. As she walked past him she had to force herself not to meet his eyes, pretending that she didn't even notice he was there. And in a second, the feeling of nervousness was gone. She had passed him and nothing happened. She let out the breath she was holding and kept walking.

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John was listening to something Pete was saying about Eric trying to get them a gig at a club downtown when he saw Claire. She was with her stuck-up friends and they were walking this way. He watched her as they approached. She was smiling, and having some, no doubt shallow, conversation with the other two girls. He waited for her to catch his eye so he would know how this was going to play out. Was she going to be the Claire that came to detention or the one that kissed him? As she walked on by him, and didn't say anything, he wondered if he had his answer. But then, he thought hopefully, maybe she was so absorbed in her conversation that she didn't even know he was standing there.

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Claire was still in a haze when sat down in her seat in Economics. A slight feeling of guilt had replaced her previous nervousness. She tried not to think about John and instead listened to what her friends were talking about.

"I bet she stole it," Jennifer said.

"That's the only rational explanation," Laura agreed.

Claire followed their line of sight and saw that they were talking about Allison. She was surprised to find out that Allison was in her class. She had never noticed her in the back corner before.

"There's no way anyone would have given it to _her_," Denise said.

Claire realized that her friends were staring at Allison's bag. It appeared that Allison had sewn some colorful scraps of fabric to it in an artistic way. Claire thought it looked quirky, but it suited Allison. She didn't understand what the big deal was until she noticed that in the center of the new additions was Andy's wrestling patch. Oh.

On the way her next class, Claire saw John again. She wondered if he was always around, but she just hadn't noticed him before, like she hadn't noticed Allison. She was about to turn away, but wasn't fast enough and John caught her eyes. She instantly felt the spark from Saturday rekindled. _'I should walk over there right now and say hi,'_ she thought._ 'I should walk up to him and kiss him and shock the whole hallway. Oh God, I wish I could.'_ She tried to communicate everything that she was feeling to him through a lustful gaze. He smirked and started to walk towards her. Claire hadn't expected that and she panicked. '_Oh no, not now. Please not now, I can't tell them yet,' _she pleaded silently. She shook her head slightly to try to tell him that now was not a good time. His demeanor changed immediately and Claire turned back to her group of friends.

"Hey, Cherry!"

Claire froze. She would have to tell her friends now, whether she was ready or not. She turned to face him. "Hi, John." She gave him a weak smile.

He returned her smile with a cold look. "You dropped this." John held out his hand and opened it to reveal her diamond earring. Claire felt her heart sink. "What would Daddy have done if he found out you lost it?" he asked.

Claire snatched the earring back from his open palm. "I'm surprised you didn't sell it for drug money," she retorted, just as coldly. Her friends laughed.

"I tried to, but they told me it was a fake." John flashed her a grin and then walked away.

"Wow," Denise said, absolutely stunned. "I can't believe your diamonds were fakes."

"Claire, honey, is your father having financial trouble?" Ashley asked.

"No, he just said that to get a rise out of me," Claire said. She suddenly felt sick to her stomach. "Why don't you guys go on to lunch without me? I'll meet up with you later."

Claire looked at herself in the mirror of the ladies' room. She felt like such a horrible person. How could she do that to John, even though she knew how shitty it was? She leaned on the sink and splashed some cold water on her face. She never thought it would be this hard.

Two girls entered the bathroom and Claire composed herself. She took out her compact and touched up her make-up before leaving. When she arrived at the cafeteria, she just looked around. Everyone was talking and sitting at their usual tables like nothing was different. But things _were_ different. The whole world had changed. Why didn't any one else notice?

Claire saw Brian at his table of friends, and noticed that Allison was with them. Brian happened to look up and catch Claire's eye. She wanted to wave, but all she could do was leave quickly before anyone else could notice her. Claire silently berated herself as she walked outside. She didn't know what she was wrong with her. She was suddenly a coward when it came to things that were important. As she rounded the corner of the school building, she saw John smoking. Fresh tears came to her eyes and she ran the other direction.

Finally, Claire found a private spot in the back parking lot and sat down on the curb and sobbed so hard her whole body shook. She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"What's wrong?" the voice asked.

Claire lifted her head and blinked a few tears away. "Brian? What are you doing here?" He sat down next to her.

"You looked sad in the cafeteria so I came after you," he said. For some reason that made Claire cry even harder. Puzzled, Brian asked again, "What's wrong?"

Claire let it all out, "I thought I could do it, but I can't. I wanted to change, I really did. I shrugged off John this morning even though I didn't want to and now he broke up with me even though I don't think we were going out to begin with and I was really shitty to everyone, but you came after me despite of everything." She inhaled deeply and started sobbing again, "I'm a horrible person!"

"I don't think you're a horrible person," Brian said. "No one should have expected you to go from caring what people think to suddenly not caring overnight. I don't think it works like that. Even for a geek like me," he said quietly. "Just give it some time, it'll happen slowly. I know you can do it, you're a strong person."

Claire sniffed and looked up at him. "You really think so?"

"Totally. And I'm the smart one, so you have to take my word for it."

Claire laughed a bit. "You're the best." She leaned over and gave him a hug, then kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you."

Brian blushed ten shades of red. "Y-you're wel-welcome," he stammered.

Claire wondered how the others were handling things. She wiped the tears off her cheek and asked, "Have you talked to anyone else today, I mean besides me and Allison?"

"I haven't seen John, but I talked to Andy this morning," Brian said, "He came up to me at my locker and asked if I could arrange a meeting with Larry. I told him that he would be at my table during lunch and that he could talk to him then. They hadn't come back yet when I saw you."

"Oh." It sounded like Andy was having an easier time at it than she was. "Thanks again for coming after me, Brian."

"No problem," he said. "Sometimes it just helps to talk to someone, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Claire answered and then realized the full impact of his statement. She turned to him and watched him closely while she asked, "How are you doing?"

The smile vanished from Brian's face. "My parents are in denial," he finally said. "It's like they've forgotten the whole incident ever happened. I couldn't even tell them about how detention went."

Claire put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and said, "If you ever feel like you want to kill yourself again, you let me know, alright? Even if it's three in the morning, I want to know. Okay?"

Brian nodded in acknowledgement. He was happy to have at least one person he could confide in. For some reason, he had never felt like opening up to his other friends.

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John heard the bell signaling the end of lunch, but he was determined to finish his cigarette before going to class. He found himself thinking about Claire again. He shook his head in disgust. He knew it. He knew she would be just the same as she was before detention. But for one brief moment that morning when their eyes connected, he allowed himself to think that she actually liked him. He swore he could feel something between them, but then he saw that she was with all of her friends and she was shaking her head and the feeling passed. He was an idiot. In what world could a princess and a criminal be together?

John dropped his cigarette butt and crushed it beneath his boot. He then picked up his pile of books from off the pavement and headed to English. He tossed his half-completed homework on the teacher's desk as he arrived to class a few minutes late and took his seat in the back of the room. He ignored the teacher's comments on his behavior and laid his head down on the desk. He did some of his best sleeping in English class.

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Andy changed for wrestling practice on Monday afternoon as slowly as possible. Every time he pulled on his uniform, a sense of overwhelming dread grew inside of him. He was only a wrestler because his father and older brothers had been wrestlers. It was like the family business, and he wanted out. It wasn't that he didn't like sports, he did. He liked competition, and he liked working out, he just really hated wrestling. He wasn't doing it for fun, he was doing it because he was told to. If he had a choice, he'd be playing hockey.

He had seen the Chicago Blackhawks play when he was ten and had become enthralled with the sport. He started to go to the ice rink regularly when he was fourteen and played in pickup games with the local boys. It wasn't anything formal, it was just fun. They had taught him how to ice skate and taught him how to play. He vividly remembered the first time he strapped a pair of skates on. He felt like he was flying across the ice. And he did, until he fell flat on his face. But it was such a rush of freedom he was addicted. He kept his skates in his gym locker and went to the rink as much as possible.

Now, as he headed out to the gym, his mind was on Allison. He had only briefly talked to her at lunch while he was waiting for Brian. He wondered if he should call her tonight.

"Clark, damn it! Focus! Keep your mind on the match," Coach barked.

Andy scowled. He wished people would stop telling him what to do. He went back to trying to pin his opponent, but his mind drifted again to Allison. She had really beautiful eyes.

The whistle blew. "Clark! What the hell was that?" Coach asked.

Andrew suddenly realized that he was on his back. Thomas had him pinned. He had lost. And he realized that it felt good.

"Where was your mind? What are you thinking? Do you want to blow your ride?" Coach demanded.

Andy stood up, looked his coach in the eye, and said simply, "I quit." As he walked back toward the locker room, he thought about how that was a long time coming. He changed and headed for the ice rink. He didn't return home until well after dinnertime.

"Andrew! Where the hell have you been? Coach called me and said you quit because you lost a match? Look, I know you're not used to losing and that has to be a blow to you, but it was only practice. It doesn't count. If you try harder next weekend and keep your mind on things that matter, you'll do fine. Don't ruin your future."

Andy shook with rage. "Whose future, Dad? _My_ future? Funny, I don't remember wanting to wrestle."

"Don't be stupid, of course you wanted to wrestle."

"No Dad, you wanted me to wrestle so I could be like you. You wanted us all to be winners because you couldn't be! This is your dream not mine!"

"How dare you? I gave up everything for you boys! I was always there for you, unlike my father."

"Yeah, you were always there pushing us to our limits. You were always there making me unhappy."

"No, wrestling made you happy!"

"It made me miserable! I wanted to play hockey!"

"Oh, not that damn Blackhawks game again. I should have never taken you, it's caused nothing but trouble."

"Yeah, that's right, Dad. This is all because of one hockey game," he said sarcastically as he stormed down the hall into his bedroom. He dug into his pants pocket and found the scrap of notebook paper Allison had given him. He sat on his bed for a while before picking up the phone and dialing Allison's number. It rang a long time and he was going to hang up, but then Allison answered.

"Hello?"

"Hi, it's Andy. I just wanted to tell you something. I quit."

Allison was more than a little confused. "Quit what?" she asked.

"Wrestling. Today. I just quit and walked out."

"Congratulations, Sporto, you just thought for yourself," she said proudly.

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When Claire walked into school on Tuesday, her friends immediately surrounded her.

"Oh my God, Claire, you will never believe what happened," Denise said as she pulled her into their group.

Claire looked at their sad faces. "What? Did someone die?"

"He might as well have," Ashley said flatly.

"Andrew Clark quit the wrestling team," Carrie said, looking at Claire expectantly, like she was going to be hugely shocked.

"Um, okay?" Claire wasn't sure how she was supposed to respond.

"No! Not okay! Honestly Claire, what is wrong with you?" Ashley threw her hands up in frustration.

"I just don't think it's a big deal," Claire responded. "Maybe he didn't like wrestling anymore."

"But he was our big champion," lamented Denise.

"Yes, but if he was unhappy," Claire tried to argue, "Then maybe it was for the best."

"I don't care if he was miserable! A lot of people depended on him to win. Remember last year how all the newspapers were reporting on him? Imagine how famous our school would be if he won the big state championship," Ashley said. Claire decided it was useless to argue. She would never convince them that Andy quitting wrestling was a good thing.

As they were talking, another girl approached their group. "Hey girls," she said. "The jocks have decided to ignore Andrew Clark from now on, and the cheerleaders have decided that we will too. Just thought you might like to know."

"Thanks Michelle," Carrie said.

"I guess that means we'll ignore him too," Ashley said.

Claire frowned. When had her friends become so shallow?


	3. Chapter 3

_**Friday, March 30th**__**, 1984**_

Claire sat at her lunch table on Friday afternoon and waited for her friends to arrive. She looked across the cafeteria and saw Andy and Allison sitting together at a small table away from the jocks, but not too far from Brian and his friends' table. She smiled because whenever she had seen the two together that week, they had looked genuinely happy. Claire remembered how that had felt. She figured that she must have looked just like them on Monday morning because everyone had seen how happy she was.

It slowly became clear to her that the only way she would experience that happiness again was to live her life the way she wanted and not how her friends thought it should be. She vowed right then that she would try to explain to John how she felt, and deal with the consequences as they came.

Claire saw Allison get up from the table, and decided to take the opportunity to go over and talk privately with Andy. Maybe he could give her a word of advice or encouragement. "Hi," she said cautiously as she approached him.

Andy didn't look up. Instead he just asked in an annoyed tone, "What do you want Claire? Shouldn't you be ignoring me with the rest of your friends?"

"Probably," she said, "But I came over here because I wanted to congratulate you for quitting the team. It took a lot of guts to do that." Andy shrugged it off like it was nothing. Claire sat down next to him. "Can I ask you something? How did you do it? How did you learn not to care about your reputation so quickly?"

Andy finally turned to look at her. "I didn't plan it. I just finally snapped," he said. "And it's not like I don't care what people still think, because I do," Andy paused and laughed to himself. "Allison says I finally thought for myself, but the decision to drop my old friends wasn't mine. They made it for me. If I could have kept my friends, I would have, but when I quit wrestling, I found out a lot of people only saw me as a wrestler and nothing else. It hurts, I'm not going to lie to you. And it hasn't been easy."

"I see," said Claire. It wasn't exactly what she had wanted to hear.

"I almost envy you," Andy said. "Monday morning came around and everything was the same for you."

Claire shook her head, "No, it wasn't. I was just too much of a coward to do anything different and I ended up hurting John because of it."

"You know, I talked to him the other day," Andy said. "He came up to me in the hall, slapped me on the back, and said 'I guess not all you richies are spineless'."

"He hates me," she lamented, burying her head in her arms on the table. "He's never going to want to talk to me again," her muffled voice said.

"That's because you're a bitch," Allison said. She took her seat across from Andy and glared at Claire.

Claire lifted her head and looked sheepishly at Allison. "I guess I deserved that," she said.

Allison narrowed her eyes and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to get another chance?" Claire said hopefully.

"With John or with us?" Allison asked.

"Both," Claire said. "I mean with everyone," she clarified.

"It won't be easy," Allison said.

"I know." They sat in silence for a few moments before Claire spoke up again. "How am I ever going to get John to talk to me?" she wondered.

"You know where he's going to be tomorrow," Allison offered. "Confront him there."

Claire perked up immediately. "Allison, you're brilliant! I've gotta go, but thank you both. I'll see you later."

When Claire was out of earshot, Allison asked, "Do you think she was serious?"

Andy shrugged. "It seemed like she really wanted to change."

As Claire walked back over to her lunch table, she caught Brian's eye as she passed him and shared a small smile with him. When she reached her table, she sat down and tried to ignore the strange looks her friends were giving her.

"I thought we were ignoring Andy?" Denise asked. "Did he rejoin the team or something?"

"No, I just—there were some things I had to say to him."

"Oh my god, you _do_ have a crush on him!" Ashley exclaimed.

Claire laughed. "No, I don't. He has a girlfriend anyway."

"Really? Who?" Carrie wondered.

"Allison Reynolds," she said, but seeing the blank stares, she added, "The girl he's sitting with."

Denise was shocked. "He's actually dating Weird Girl?"

"Yep."

"Wow, it's like the Bodysnatchers got him and replaced him with someone else," Carrie said.

"If I ever started dating someone weird like that, you guys would stop me, right?" Denise asked.

"Absolutely," Ashley answered.

"But what if you were really happy together?" Claire asked.

Denise scrunched up her face. "How could anyone be happy dating a freak?"

"I'm just saying, it _could_ happen. You don't get to plan who you fall in love with, it just happens. It might be someone weird that no one else gets, or it might be someone completely normal," said Claire.

Denise eyed her warily. "Did the Bodysnatchers get you too?" she asked.

Claire smiled. "Maybe."

"They must be brain washing the students in detention now," Ashley said wryly.

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Claire sat on the cold, stone steps of Shermer High on Saturday afternoon and waited for the students to be released from detention. At four o'clock, a girl she had never seen before walked out the front door of the school and got into a waiting car. Then a boy who looked like a Billy Idol wannabe also exited the building. Two minutes later, the door opened once more and Claire heard John yelling down the hallway.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll see you bright and early on Monday, Dick. Don't get your panties in a bunch!"

"Bender, I swear to God I'm going to—" The door swung shut and cut off Mr. Vernon's reply. John walked down the steps and hid his surprise when he saw Claire. "I think you're here a little early, Queenie. The prom's not until June," he said as he passed her.

Claire stood up. "I came to talk to you," she said.

"I don't think I want to listen to someone who can't even acknowledge my presence as she walks by me," John responded. He stopped anyway.

Claire approached him and said, "Despite what I may have led you to believe, I really do want to continue what we started last week."

John regarded her silently for a few moments, trying to decide if she was sincere. "You only like me on Saturdays," he finally said.

"That's not true!" Claire exclaimed.

John scoffed at her. "No? Last Saturday you kissed me and when Monday rolled around you didn't want anything to fucking do with me!"

"No, I did! I just couldn't—"

"Be seen with a lowlife like me in front of your friends, I know," he finished for her. "Ok, how about I give you another chance? I'll be your 'bad' boyfriend. You can flaunt me in front of Mommy and Daddy and they'll give you what _you_ want, we'll fuck a couple of times, so I'll get what _I_ want, and we don't even have to be seen in public together, deal?"

"Jesus! Do you ever stop being such a bastard? I'm trying to explain—"

"I'll take that as a 'no' then." He started to walk away.

"I'll come back next week!" she shouted after him.

"There are plenty of other doors I can go out. You can't sit outside them all."

Claire hadn't thought about that. "I can get detention again!" she yelled.

He waved her off and kept walking. "Won't help you when Dick locks me in his closet!"

"Then I'll crawl through the ceiling like you did!" That got his attention.

John turned around and eyed her skeptically. His arms were crossed over his chest and his eyebrow was raised. "You're going to crawl through the ceiling in high heels and a skirt?" he asked.

"You don't think I can?" Claire challenged.

John smirked. "I think you'd break your neck and I'd end up being blamed somehow."

Claire smiled back at him. "You'd deserve it, you know. You could've just talked to me today."

"Well, if it'll keep me out of court…" John walked back over and stretched out on the steps.

Claire sat down next to him. "I'm sorry about what happened on Monday, I know you hate me for it. I just didn't think that I could stand up to my friends; it was all moving too fast for me. I mean, I changed, but not completely, not yet. It's going to take me some time to adjust." She paused and tried to figure out how to explain to him what she meant. This conversation had gone a lot more smoothly inside her head while she had been waiting. "What I'm trying to say is that the reason I wanted to change in first place is because of you. I really want to find a way to make things work between us if I can. Whatever that means, whatever it takes. That's what I want."

They sat in silence and Claire was unable to tell what John was thinking. She blushed, suddenly embarrassed by her emotional confession. "That's all I wanted," she said nonchalantly, standing quickly to hide her red cheeks. "You can go now. My mother's driver will be here soon. I told him to come back at 4:30."

John stood as well. He watched Claire nervously brush the non-existent dirt off her skirt. She had really surprised him and he didn't how to react. A white Cadillac pulled up to the school and she started toward it. He offered her the only thing he could, "Just so you know, I don't hate you."

Claire looked at him. "Does that mean you'll give me another chance?" she asked.

"Didn't I just tell you I would?"

"Yes, but I didn't think you were being serious."

"I wasn't," he smirked.

Claire threw up her hands in exasperation. "Augh! You're completely… impossible!"

John moved closer and said, "I think the word you were looking for was irresistible."

Claire smiled. "That too." She had an idea. "Do you have a pen?" John searched around in his pockets and produced a Sharpie marker. "Hold out your hand," she instructed as she took the marker from him. Puzzled, John did as she asked. She took the marker and wrote something on the back of his hand in the space that his glove didn't cover. "It's my private number, so you don't have to worry about my parents picking up."

"Okay," he said. He took the marker back and pulled an old receipt out of his pocket and wrote something on it. He shifted nervously. "Uh, I don't have my own line, but I do have a phone in my room and I'm usually the first one to answer when I'm home. If you get my parents, just hang up 'cuz I'm not there." He handed her the paper. Claire smiled at him and he let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding. He wondered why Claire made him feel so nervous, like he needed her approval of everything.

Claire kissed him softly and then gazed into his eyes. "Will you call me tonight?" she asked.

John nodded dumbly. Somewhere, in the back of his head, his mind taunted him. _'You're turning soft, Bender, and that girl's going to be your downfall.'_

Satisfied with John's answer, Claire said goodbye and walked toward the Cadillac. "Do you want a ride home?" she called back to him.

"Nah, I've gotta maintain my figure somehow, you know," he replied, patting his stomach. Claire laughed and then got in the car.

xxxxxxxxxx

John sat on his bed that night, strumming his guitar, practicing the new song. He didn't like any of the lyrics he came up with. He could only hope that one of the others was having better luck. The phone rang and he reached over to his nightstand, picking it up after the first ring. It was Pete.

"Hey Bender, you want to do something tonight? Eric and Robbie went to a club, but it's 18 and over night, so they left me here and I'm pretty bored. Why don't you come over?"

"Man, I don't want to walk all the way over there tonight."

"Why not? Just spend the night and you'll be here for practice tomorrow. I'll even order pizza."

John thought long and hard about his response. Pizza was a tempting offer, but he did tell Claire he would call. He sighed. They hadn't been together for one whole day yet and already he was whipped. "Nah, I think I'd rather just hang out here tonight." He couldn't believe those words had just come out of his mouth. He tried to cover by adding, "I'm working on some great lyrics right now and I don't want to stop."

"You ok, man?" Pete asked with concern.

John knew Pete was worried something had happened. "It's nothing like that," he said.

"It's not because of a girl is it?" Pete asked suspiciously.

"Yeah, this chick gave me her number today, and I'm going to call her when I'm done with you."

Pete laughed at the thought. Out of all the possibilities, that was the one least likely to happen. Pete didn't figure there was a woman in Shermer who would put up with John for longer than five minutes.

xxxxxxxxxx

Claire excused herself from the table after dinner and went up to her room. She didn't want to miss John's phone call in case he actually decided to call, and didn't just blow her off. Dinner had been bearable that night because her brother, Rick, had dropped in for a visit. Normally Claire ate alone or with her mother. Her father almost always ate in his study, while on the phone, talking business. Tonight was one of the rare times he actually ate in the dining room, although he was talking business with Rick when Claire left the table.

Claire only had to wait ten minutes before the phone rang. "Hello?"

"This better be worth my while, I turned down a hot date so I could call you," John said.

"I'm not a hot date?" Claire asked coyly.

"Well, that remains to be seen," he answered.

Claire wondered what an actual date with John would be like. "So, what do you do when you're not in detention?"

"Smoke, hang out with my friends, and practice with my band. That's about it."

Claire was intrigued. "You're in a band? I didn't know that. Do you sing or play the guitar?"

"Both, but I mostly just play guitar. Eric's our lead singer, but he lets me sing a song or two occasionally. Once I had to do a whole set because he lost his voice."

"That's so awesome. How did you get into playing?"

"Eric and his brother, Pete, both took lessons and I learned from them. Eric, he's really talented, he can read sheet music and everything. I just play by ear."

"Well, I took piano lessons, so if you ever need a keyboardist, let me know," Claire joked.

John laughed. "I'd pay good money to see you up there on stage, rockin' out, dressed like Pat Benatar."

Claire pretended to consider the offer. "Hmm, it _would_ give me an excuse to buy some new clothes," she said.

"Well, in that case, why don't you stop by tomorrow and audition?"

"Darn, tomorrow's no good. I already have plans. I'm going out to brunch some friends," she said. "As long as someone remembers to pick me up."

"That's one thing I don't get," John said.

"What?"

"I would've thought a richie like you would have her own car."

"I do. My father bought it for me on my 16th birthday."

"Then how come you always have someone drive you around? Did you fail Driver's Ed?"

Claire laughed. "I _can_ drive, I just _don't_. Not if I can avoid it."

"Why?"

Claire hesitated. "You're going to think it's a dumb reason and call me spoiled."

"Probably, but I still want to know," he insisted.

"Fine," she relented. "My parents were in a huge fight at the time and I really thought for sure they were going to divorce. They started a competition of buying me things, I think so I would favor one of them over the other if they split up, and on my birthday, my father was determined to out do my mother, so he bought me the best car he could drive off the lot. He never stopped to ask me what kind of car I wanted, so it's not really my taste, I hate the way it handles, and I could never get used to it."

"Wow, Claire. I think you finally topped yourself. You're not just spoiled, you're a fucking snob."

"I knew I shouldn't have told you!" Claire exclaimed in frustration. She then got so caught up in trying to convince John that she wasn't stuck-up, that she didn't hear the knock on her door.

Rick knocked again and when he got no answer the second time, he yelled, "I'm coming in!" and opened the door. Seeing that Claire still wasn't aware of his presence, he plopped down on the bed next to her. "Who're you talking to Claire? Is it a boy?" He made kissing noises in her ear.

Claire pushed Rick away and rolled her eyes. "That was just my brother, Rick," she told John. "He's studying to be a doctor, so you'd think he'd act a little bit more mature." She gave Rick a pointed look.

"Oh, c'mon, Claire. If I can't harass my baby sister, then what am I supposed to do for fun?"

Claire frowned at Rick and said to John, "Hold on a sec." She held the receiver against her body and said, "I don't know, maybe you should take your girlfriend out somewhere?"

Rick backed off. "Ooh, point taken. Did she put you up to that?" he asked suspiciously.

"No, now did you want something?" Claire asked impatiently.

Rick shook his head. "I just wanted to say goodbye."

"Bye," she said. Claire took the phone away from her body when Rick left and complained to John, "He can be so annoying."

xxxxxxxxxx

It was unusually quiet when John woke up on Sunday morning. He supposed that meant that his mother had gone grocery shopping, or whatever it was that she did during her lucid moments. As he dressed, he marveled over the fact that he had talked on the phone with Claire for nearly two hours. He would never live it down if Pete found out.

John packed his guitar into its worn case and threw it over his shoulder. As he passed by the kitchen on his way to the front door, he saw that his father was sitting at the table, reading the newspaper. John walked quietly past him, trying not to be noticed, but his father looked up when he heard the floorboards creak.

"You going out?" his father asked.

"Yeah."

"Band practice?"

"Yeah," he answered again and then added, "We've got a gig this week." His father nodded in understanding and John stood there awkwardly for another moment, waiting to see if the conversation would continue. When it didn't, he left.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Friday, April 6**__**th**__**, 1984**_

When Claire walked into the activities hall on Friday afternoon, her friends had already gathered and were talking excitedly about something.

"Hi, Claire!" Jennifer cheerfully greeted her.

"Hi," Claire responded. "What's going on?"

"There's a new senior named Parker," Denise said. "Jennifer just pointed him out to us in the hall."

"He's sooo handsome," Ashley said.

"Oh, it's too bad I missed him then," Claire said, pretending to be interested.

"He just transferred here on Monday from a prestigious boarding school in England," Jennifer said, "So we know he doesn't have a girlfriend in Shermer."

"He would totally be perfect for you Claire," Denise insisted. "I could talk to him for you if you want."

"No, that's okay," Claire said quickly.

"Why not?" Denise asked. "You and Carrie are the only ones that don't have dates for the prom yet."

"And you only have two more months," Jennifer said. "You should at least date the guy a couple of times so that the sex afterward won't be so awkward."

"I'll keep that in mind," Claire said. "Anyway, I'm not going to just ask some random guy to the prom. Remember what happened in eighth grade?" she asked Ashley.

"You promised not to mention that again!" Ashley exclaimed.

"What happened?" Jennifer asked.

"Ashley asked this really cute guy she met at the mall to our school dance and he picked her up wearing a lime green tux!" Denise said.

"And he was really strange," Claire added.

"But he was so cute," Ashley said sadly and the girls all cracked up laughing.

Shortly afterward, the rest of the club members arrived and their meeting started. Claire only half-listened as she thought about their earlier conversation. It had raised an interesting question in her mind. Would John want to go to the prom with her? She tried to picture him in a tuxedo dancing with her, but she almost burst out laughing again. No, John was definitely not the school dance type.

XXX

On Friday evening, John was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, and wondering if he should call Claire. She hadn't said anything about calling when they met in the stairwell between second and third period, but he didn't know if it was something she just expected him to do. Maybe she was going to call him? He wasn't sure how these things worked.

He sighed and wondered what a preppy boyfriend would do on a Friday night. Probably take her out somewhere. Maybe he could jack the old man's car without him noticing and pick her up. Yeah, right. Even if that worked, where would he take her? He had five dollars and a pack of cigarettes to his name.

He decided that he would call Claire, but only after he ate something, just in case he was on the phone for hours again. He opened his bedroom door and saw his mother staggering down the hall toward her bedroom. She looked up when she heard his door open and headed straight for him.

"Why did you distract me? Why did you make him to go away?" she asked. John backed away, knowing that now was not the time to try and reason with her. "Why? Why didn't you die? You're not good for anything, but he was a sweet little innocent boy!" she screamed. John's back hit the wall behind him. He was trapped.

"Why don't you go take some more pills?" John asked, but if his mother heard him, she didn't react.

"I wish you were the one that died!" she screamed as she frantically pounded her fists against his chest. It didn't hurt much, but John tried to stop her and she changed tactics, instead clawing at him with her nails.

"Ma!" he yelled, trying to get through to her. "Stop it!" He grabbed her hands and pushed them away. His mother fell backwards easily. He hadn't pushed her hard, but she was really out of it and didn't try to steady herself. She landed on the floor as his father was coming to see what was going on. He looked down at his crying mother and then up at his angry father. _'Ohshitohshitohshit'_.

"Did you just hit your mother, boy? No retarded fuck-up of a worthless son of mine is going to go around hitting women."

"Fuck you," he said under his breath.

His father glared dangerously at him and demanded, "What was that?"

John held his tongue and crossed his arms protectively across his chest, staring his old man down. This was not how he wanted to spend his Friday night.

"I asked you a question," his father said sternly.

"It was nothing, sir," John answered, hoping it would diffuse the situation.

His father wasn't convinced. "Fucking smart-mouth know-it-all. You must think I'm a goddamn idiot."

"You're not wrong," John muttered. And as his father's fist connected with his stomach, all John could think about was how the preppy rich boys would be out having fun right now and not at home dealing with this shit.

XXX

Claire could hear her phone ringing all the way down the hall. She hurried into her bedroom and dropped her shopping bags on the floor. "Hello?"

"Hey. I can't talk long, I'm on a pay phone," John said.

Claire immediately sensed that something was wrong, and for a brief moment she wondered if he was calling from jail. "What's up? Are you ok?" she asked.

"I've been worse. Look, I just wanted to let you know that I won't be home tonight, so don't get mad when I don't call you."

Claire was not reassured. "Where are you going to be?" she asked casually.

"Pete's. He lets me crash on the couch in his basement."

Claire realized that something bad must have happened to John at home and before she knew it, she was asking him, "Why don't you spend the night here?"

John was surprised. "You want me to spend the night at your house?" he repeated, making sure he had heard her right.

Claire tried to act nonchalant, like it was no big deal. "Sure," she said. "I have cable TV in my room and I can get you anything you want to eat from the kitchen."

"But what about your parents?"

"Not a problem. Just cut through the backyard. My room's on the second floor on the left-hand side. It has a window right above a conveniently placed and very sturdy trellis that you can use to climb into my room and avoid my parents completely," she said and then added, "Not that I would have ever used it for that."

"Of course not."

"So?" Claire waited for an answer.

John relented. "Yeah okay, what's the address?"

"1650 Shadybrook Lane."

John thought for a second. "Is that near the country club?" he asked.

"Yep, you just take Grant Street past school and eventually you get to Shadybrook. If you hit the golf course, you've gone too far."

"Alright, but if I get arrested for wandering around your rich neighborhood at night, you're putting up my bail."

Claire laughed. "Deal. See you in a bit."

"Bye."

Claire opened the window and tidied up her room while she waited. It wasn't messy, but she made sure nothing embarrassing was out in the open. When she was satisfied it was fine, she put away her recent purchases in the walk-in closet. While she was in there, she also took down a blanket and a set of sheets from off a shelf. She added a pillow to the pile and stepped out of her closet, closing the door behind her.

"Hi, Rapunzel," John greeted her as he climbed through the window.

"Does that make you Prince Charming?" she asked as she tossed the blankets and pillow on the sofa.

John smirked. "Yeah, wanna see my sword?"

Claire rolled her eyes at him. "You're such a pig," she said. John took off his coat and Claire frowned when she saw the red scratches on his neck. "Sit," she said, motioning to her bed. "I'll be right back." Claire went into her bathroom and gathered some first-aid supplies.

When she returned, John said, "I bet we could have some serious fun in this big bed."

Claire ignored his comment, but it didn't escape her notice that when John shifted, he winced in pain. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not. You were just in pain."

"Yeah, well it hurts to get kneed in the ribs," he shot back defensively. Then, realizing that she was just trying to help, he relaxed slightly, "Don't worry, I don't think anything's broken, just bruised."

"Why didn't you tell me that on the phone? I would've come pick you up."

"I told you, I'm fine. Besides, you don't drive."

"I would've made an exception," she said, dabbing a wet washcloth over his wounds. "These scratches don't look too deep, do you want me to put band-aids on them?"

"Nah, don't bother. My mom never does much damage."

"Your _mom_ did this?" she asked in disbelief.

"Only the scratches," he said. "Sometimes she freaks out and blames me for my brother's death. Other times, she'll blame herself. It all depends on how many pills she's had."

Claire stopped what she was doing. "You had a brother?"

"Yeah. David. He was three years younger than me," he told her. "He died when I was six. A car hit him while my mom was fixing a broken shoelace for me. She wasn't watching, he ran into the street, and BAM! My life was never the same again."

"Oh my god. That's terrible."

John tried to shrug it off and act like it was nothing. "That's the hand I was dealt," he said. "Nothing I can do about it." He couldn't believe how easily he had let Claire get past his defenses. And now she was looking at him with a strange expression on her face. It couldn't be compassion, he told himself. No one ever feels compassion for John Bender. They just thank God that they have it better than him. He broke the moment by changing the subject, "So… I hope you don't hog the covers, Princess."

It worked. Claire reverted back to her annoyed face. "You're sleeping on sofa bed," she said, as she finished attending to him.

"What's the matter? Afraid you'll be tempted?" he baited her.

"Don't flatter yourself. You're not that irresistible," she said as she walked toward the bathroom.

John cheerfully dismissed her comment and called after her, "That's what they all say, at first."

Claire considered what he said as she put the supplies away, wondering if there was any truth behind it. She had seen all of the pictures in his wallet. Just how many girlfriends had he had? How many did he have now?

She walked back out into her bedroom and asked him, "Are you hungry?" a little more tersely than she probably should have.

John sensed she was upset about something and not wanting to be a further burden, he just shrugged and said, "Not really."

Claire softened at his response, "Seriously, what would you like? I make a totally awesome turkey club sandwich."

"That sounds good," he said, resisting the urge to tease her about cooking, lest it cost him a sandwich. He was really hungry.

"Okay, I'll be right back."

John looked around Claire's room while she was gone. It was nauseatingly pink and everything he saw looked like it was worth more than the contents of his whole house. Every lamp, every vase was like a glaring reminder of how different they were. But then he saw the TV, VCR, stereo, and the large video and music collection and thought that maybe he should learn to embrace their differences.

XXX

As Claire gathered the fixings for John's sandwich, the phone rang. She picked up the receiver and rested it on her shoulder. "Hello?"

"Hi, is Dad around?" Rick asked.

Claire grabbed the toast from the toaster and spread a layer of mayonnaise on one piece and mustard on the other. "No, he's not back from New York yet. His plane's due in tomorrow afternoon, I think."

"Alright, I'll try him again tomorrow night."

"Hey, while I have you on the phone, could you give me some quick medical advice?" she asked.

"For yourself?"

"No, for a friend."

"Riiight."

"Seriously," she said as she piled the turkey and bacon onto the toast.

"Okay, what is it?"

"My friend bruised her ribs in gym class and was wondering what she should do about it."

"Tell your friend to ice her ribs and take pain relievers if she's in a lot of pain," he said. "She should take it easy for awhile too, it could take weeks to fully heal, depending on how bad it is."

"Alright, thanks. Bye." Claire hung the phone up before he could ask any more questions and topped the sandwich off with a slice of tomato and some romaine lettuce. She cut it in half and grabbed a couple of cans of Coke from the fridge and an ice pack from the freezer. She balanced everything the best she could and headed back upstairs.

She handed the plate to John, who was still sitting on her bed, and watched nervously as he took a bite. "Well? What do you think?"

"It's pretty good," he said with his mouth full, eyeing her skeptically. "Are you sure your cook didn't make this?"

Claire laughed, "No, she left hours ago." Like it was common knowledge.

John just continued chewing and said, "Ah."

Claire made up the sofa bed as he ate. "You should put that ice pack on your ribs," she said. "It'll help. Also, Rick said you should take some pain relievers. I'll go see what I have in the medicine cabinet."

"You told your brother about me?"

"No, of course not. I told him one of my girlfriends hurt her ribs in gym class." Claire brought John a couple of Tylenol and he downed them with a swig of Coke. "Do you want to watch some TV?" she asked.

"I guess."

Claire turned on the TV and flipped through the channels to see what was on. "Dallas or Knight Rider?" she asked.

"Knight Rider."

She changed the channel back to NBC and settled on the floor so that she was leaning against the bed. She opened her can of Coke and took a sip.

John slid down onto the floor next to her. He set his empty plate down and adjusted the icepack over his ribs. "I bet this is how you always dreamed of spending a Friday night," he said sarcastically.

"Why do you do that?"

"What?" He looked at her blankly.

She shook her head at him. "I don't go out all the time, you know. I actually like just hanging out and watching TV," she said.

John took the hint and kept his comments to a minimum during the rest of Knight Rider and only spoke up during Remington Steele to tease Claire about having a crush on Pierce Brosnan, which she vehemently, but unconvincingly, denied. By the time eleven o'clock rolled around, they were both getting tired and decided to call it a night.

Claire retreated into the bathroom with her pajamas, while John went over to his coat and fished his Walkman out of his pocket. He kicked off his boots and debated on whether or not to take his jeans off. He settled on emptying out all the shit he had in his pockets and removing his wallet. Finally satisfied that he would be comfortable, John laid down on the sofa bed, put his headphones on, and closed his eyes.

"John?" Claire called to him. She tried again, this time louder, "John?"

He slipped the earphones off his ears and looked over at Claire who was now wearing a purple robe and sitting cross-legged on her bed. "Yeah?"

"About those girls in your wallet…"

"What about them?"

"Do you still talk to them? Hang out with them? Consider them?"

John laughed. "Do they really bother you _that_ much?"

Claire frowned at his response. "Yes, of course they bother me!" She took a deep breath and tried to calm down. "There I said it."

He smirked at the look of frustration on her face. "You know," he said, "You shouldn't keep your anger bottled up like that, it's bad for your complexion." Claire's scowl deepened and he taunted her further, "My, my, I do believe that the lady is jealous. Are you jealous, Claaaire?"

"Yes! You have this wallet full of girls' pictures, and you told me that the whole one guy-one girl thing isn't for you, and I don't know what to think! It's bothered me for a while now." Claire looked away. She was sure that her face was as red as her hair.

"Well, I guess if you really want to know…" John trailed off, trying to prolong her agony, "I found a wallet under the bleachers, freshman year. It didn't have any money, but it was full of pictures. I just took the ones I liked best."

"But you said—"

He sighed, knowing he would never get a moments peace if he didn't explain. "I say a lot of things. I've got an image to maintain, you know. I don't think I have to remind you what that's like."

Claire shook her head. "So, that's really all there is to it?" she asked.

"Disappointed?"

"No."

"Good. Now maybe I can actually get some sleep," he said as he closed his eyes again. "I've got an important appointment with Vernon in the morning and I've gotta be sharp."

"Do you want a ride? You could sleep in later," she offered.

"I don't mind the walk. I'm used to it."

"Okay. Goodnight."

XXX

John walked from detention on Saturday straight to Pete and Eric's house. Mr. McNally answered the door and let him in. When he got down to the basement, Pete greeted him. John noticed that Pete's gaze fell briefly to the scratches on his neck, but he didn't mention them, he just said, "Good timing. We were going to head to the arcade in a few."

"Spezz is here?" John asked when he saw that their friend, Spezz, was sitting on the couch next to Eric, who scribbling something in a notebook. Derek "Spezz" Spezzano was the only one John knew that had a worse home life than he did. He didn't know the specifics of what went on, but he knew enough never to bring it up.

Pete nodded. "He's going to be here for awhile, I think. I offered him the couch. You haven't needed it, so I figured it was okay." He quickly added, "But if you still need a place to crash, you're welcome to the floor."

"I've got other accommodations at the moment," John said off-handedly.

Pete raised an eyebrow at him. "Is it true that you're dating that rich bitch?"

"What if I am?"

"Are you?"

John saw Eric cross out something furiously and walked over to the couch. "No luck with the lyrics?" he asked, ignoring Pete's question.

"No. There's a reason why I usually pawn this off on the rest of you," Eric said.

"Hey, Bender. You gonna need some more weed soon?" Spezz asked.

"Yeah, I'm just about all out, but I can't buy any until I get paid from that gig we did on Wednesday."

Eric looked up. "We didn't actually get paid for playing on Wednesday, you know that, right? It was all about exposure."

John frowned. "Well, when are we going to play something where I'm going to get paid?"

"The guy from the Smoke & Mirrors Club called me back and wanted to know if we could play there on May 26th. It's a Saturday, but you'll be out of detention by then right? I want to be able to rehearse in the afternoon. This is going to be our big break. I want all the new material rehearsed and if I could just come up with some fucking lyrics, we'd be well on our way," Eric said as he threw the notebook down onto the coffee table in frustration.

"Nothing before that then?" John asked.

Eric shrugged. "Probably not, but Spezz knows you're good for the money. Don't you, Spezz?"

Spezz nodded. "Yeah, I know where to find you."

Eric noticed that John still looked disappointed. "Look, if this is about getting a new guitar case, don't worry, I'm sure the duct tape will hold until then," he said.

Pete put an arm around John and adopted an effeminate voice. "Boys, I think this is because our little Johnny has found himself a girlfriend."

John pulled away from him. "Fuck off," he said. They all laughed.

XXX

On Thursday afternoon, Claire was on her way out of school when she saw Andy walking in the hall in front of her. She walked quickly to catch up to him. "Andy!" she shouted.

Andy stopped and turned around. "Hi, Claire. Are you on your way home too? I'll walk with you to the parking lot."

"Thanks."

"We just need to make a small detour and pick up Allison by the art room."

"No problem."

Allison wasn't ready, so they waited. "It's strange going home so early," Andy commented. "Usually I was at school until dinner time. Now I actually have time to do things."

"Do you ever miss how things were before?" Claire asked.

Andy thought for a moment before answering. "Sometimes. But I can't go back now. I pissed off way too many people." Claire nodded in agreement. "You seem to be managing okay though," he observed.

Claire smiled. "I am. The trick is to hang out with my old friends sometimes, and then when they're not around I hang out with you guys. It's like the best of both worlds."

"It sounds to me like you're just balancing the two," Andy said. "You know, keeping each group separate, one in each hand. So, you don't really belong to either side. You're just standing in the middle."

Claire's smile faded. "Maybe," she conceded.

"Sooner or later, you're going to have to choose," he said.

Allison came out of the art room and Claire greeted her, grateful for the distraction, "Hi, Allison."

"Hi, Claire," she answered back warily. Claire didn't think Allison trusted her yet.

When they got out to the parking lot, they said their good-byes and Andy and Allison went over to Andy's car, while Claire walked over to a waiting Carrie. "Sorry I made you wait," she apologized to her.

"That's alright, it's a nice day," Carrie said. "So, I see you're still fraternizing with the enemy." She nodded in the direction of Andy's car.

"Enemy? Oh, Andy and Allison?" Claire didn't know how to explain, so she left things as vague as possible, and just said, "They're really not that bad." Carrie seemed satisfied by her answer and everything was fine until they pulled up to the first stoplight.

Carrie turned to Claire suddenly and said, "Can I ask you something? You totally don't have to answer if you don't want to, but I'm really curious."

"What is it?"

"What's up with you and John Bender?"

Claire froze. "Why do you think there's anything between us?"

"There are rumors. Most of them are ridiculous. You know, like he's blackmailing you to sleep with him. Stuff like that."

"That's crazy."

"Yeah, and I completely dismissed them, but then I saw you making out with him the other day."

"We're—I really like him," Claire confessed. "He's not as terrible as everyone thinks."

Carrie smiled knowingly. "He's the guy you mentioned a few weeks ago, right? The one you met on a Saturday that made you go all head-over-heels?"

Claire resigned herself to telling Carrie the whole story. "Yeah, we met in detention. We had kind of a rocky start, but things are actually okay now."

"It must have been a real bummer to have to cut him up to us."

Claire thought back to that Monday when John came up to her and her friends. She still felt guilty about it. "Yeah, it was, but I didn't think you guys would understand."

Carrie nodded seriously. "I don't think Denise or Ashley will ever understand, but I do," she said and Claire gave her a puzzled look. "No one knows about my boyfriend either," Carrie explained. "He doesn't have his own car, and he's not movie-star gorgeous, but I like him. His name's Greg and he goes to a school across town. Get this, I met him in the parking lot of the mall. His parent's car died and he had to get a jumpstart from me."

Claire laughed. "That's very romantic."

Carrie laughed as well. "You see why I didn't tell anyone?"

"Shitty that it as to be like that, huh?"

"No kidding."


	5. Chapter 5

_**Tuesday, April 24**__**th, 1984**_

John walked into his kitchen on Tuesday night and searched through the meager contents of the refrigerator for something to drink. He was hoping that somehow a stray can of Coke had gotten shoved behind the milk or the pickles, but he wasn't having any such luck. As he stood contemplating his beverage options, his father entered the kitchen for what John figured was going to be his third beer.

Giving him a wide berth, John walked over to a cupboard to get a glass for water. As he pulled one glass out, another fell, hitting the edge of the counter and shattering onto the floor. John looked down at the mess and swore under his breath, "Shit!"

His father, who had stopped when he heard the glass break, set his unopened beer down on the table and confronted John. "Do you think I'm made of goddamn money?" he asked. "What did I tell you happens when you damage my property?"

Leave it to his father to blow things out of proportion. "It was an accident," John muttered, knowing it wouldn't help to argue. He suspected what was coming next as he watched his father take a long drag from his cigar.

"Hold out your arm," his father ordered him.

And there it was. John mentally kicked himself for getting in this situation again. He hadn't been punished like this for years now. As John stared his old man down, the scar on his right forearm burned white-hot with phantom pain, reminding him that this was not something he wanted to go through again.

"Hold out your fucking arm!" his father shouted impatiently.

John reluctantly complied, holding out his right arm.

"The other arm."

"What?" he asked stupidly, suddenly caught off guard. The last two times, his father had burned him in the same spot.

"Other arm," his father repeated gruffly.

John frowned. Claire would definitely notice the appearance of another cigar burn. He held out his left arm and steeled himself for the inevitable pain that would follow. _At least I'll be symmetrical_, he thought wryly.

His father grabbed his wrist and instead of taking the cigar from his mouth, he picked up a piece of glass from the counter. John's eyes went wide in surprise and his father dragged the glass slowly down his forearm, lightly at first, but enough to leave a trail of blood in its wake. John tried to contain his outburst, not wanting to give his father the satisfaction of knowing it hurt, but that only made him go deeper. "Ahhh!" he finally cried out. His father looked satisfied at the outburst and he tossed the piece of glass into the garbage can before grabbing his beer and leaving the room.

John clamped his right hand over his forearm and held it tight. He didn't want to be blamed for bloodying up the kitchen too. "Crazy old fuck," John muttered to himself. He retreated to his bedroom and grabbed a couple of his bandanas and wrapped them around his arm as best he could. Then he wiped the blood off his hands with an old T-shirt that was on the floor, threw on his denim jacket, and headed out.

xxx

Claire was doing her homework when a knock at the window startled her. She put her pen down and got up from her desk. She opened the curtains and saw John's face. She quickly opened the window and berated him as he climbed through. "Why didn't you call first? You're lucky no one else was in here—oh my god! What happened?" Claire asked when she saw that John's jacket sleeve was soaked through with blood.

He shrugged and said, "I broke a glass."

Claire led him into her bathroom and sat him down. She helped him take his jacket off, setting it on the bathroom counter. Then she carefully peeled the bandanas off his arm and placed them in the sink. What she saw amidst the blood was a four-inch gash that ran diagonally across his forearm.

"See," he said, "It's just a scratch. It'll take more than this to kill me."

"This may be more than I can bandage," Claire said cautiously.

"No hospitals," John replied.

"I know," she said softly as she wiped his arm clean with a washcloth. She had long ago accepted that this was something that came with John and if she wanted the good, she had to deal with the bad as well, like a package deal. She didn't mind, but she did worry about him.

Claire inspected the cut more closely now that it was easier to see. It was deeper at one end and still bleeding. She grabbed a clean, folded towel and held it against his arm. "Keep pressure on that," she instructed John. "I'll be right back. I'm going to call Rick." Claire grabbed her cordless phone from the bedroom and dialed her brother's number, hoping he was home.

He answered on the third ring. "Hello?"

"Hi. I've got a medical question."

"More advice for your 'friend'?"

Claire had forgotten that she used the 'friend' excuse already. Thinking fast, she said, "No, this is a hypothetical situation."

"I'm listening," he said, his curiosity piqued.

"Hypothetically speaking, if someone cut themselves on a piece of glass and lost a lot of blood, what would you do?"

"What kind of blood loss are we talking?"

"I don't know, enough to soak through three or four layers of cloth," she estimated.

"Is the person feeling dizzy at all?"

Claire thought for a second before answering, "I don't think so."

"Okay, then it's real easy. You put pressure on the wound until it stops bleeding and then disinfect and bandage it. You're not exactly challenging me here with your hypothetical patient's case, you know. If you're going to call me out of the blue and quiz my medical knowledge, at least make it a rare disease or something. Now if you don't mind, I was in the middle of studying—"

"Wait!" Claire stopped him before he could hang up. "I already knew all of that," she said, "But what if the cut is pretty deep and it kept bleeding? Then what do you do?"

"Stitches," he answered easily. "Especially if the wound is in a place, like on the hand, where movement is going to keep pulling it open."

"But what if it's on the arm and the person in question doesn't want to go to the hospital? Isn't there something else I could do?" she asked desperately.

Rick paused. "Are you in some kind of trouble?" he asked.

"No," she answered quickly. It wasn't exactly a lie. "Please, just humor me."

Deciding she was telling the truth, but no less puzzled, Rick continued, "Well, I suppose you could try using some butterfly bandages to keep it closed. You should be able to get them anywhere that sells band-aids. Just stick them on to close the wound and then wrap some gauze around it to keep it clean."

"Okay, thanks. Sorry to bother you," Claire said as she walked back into the bathroom. John was still keeping pressure on his wound. She gave him a reassuring smile.

"No problem," Rick said, "But, Claire, you're going to have to watch for signs of infection. And the hypothetical person may still need stitches if the wound doesn't heal."

"Alright, thanks again. Bye."

"Bye."

Claire hung up the phone and set the receiver down on the bathroom counter. "Rick says you might need stitches," she told John as she dug through her medicine cabinet for anything that she could use. "I'm going to try what he suggested first, but I'll have to go out and buy a few things." She pulled a box of gauze, a roll of tape, and some disinfectant out of the cabinet. Noticing John was unusually quiet, she glanced over at him. He looked pale. "Are you dizzy?" she asked.

John was startled out of his thoughts. He shook his head. "No," he replied.

"Good. Here," she said handing him the tape, "Hold this." John took the roll and Claire removed the towel from his arm. The wound looked like it had finally stopped bleeding. Claire spread some disinfectant on it and covered it with the gauze pad. "That'll have to do for now," she said as she taped down the last edge.

John inspected the patch job, smiling in approval. "Thanks to you, they won't have to amputate. Now, I can still live out my dream as a rock star."

Claire started filling the sink with cold water so she could rinse out John's things. "Is that what you want to do when you graduate? Be a musician?" she wondered.

"When you've got talent like I do, it'd be a shame to let it go to waste," he joked.

Claire smiled and he continued telling her about how famous the band would be one day. She stopped paying attention to what he was saying when she looked down at the sink basin. The water had turned deep red with John's blood and it suddenly struck Claire how serious the situation had been. She thought back to his earlier comment about it taking more than a cut to kill him and wondered how often John's life was actually in danger. She felt tears prick at her eyes. She tried to brush them away quickly.

John stopped talking when he saw Claire wipe her eyes. "Why are you crying?" he asked suddenly.

"Because of you, you idiot."

"I'm not worth crying over, Princess," he said sadly.

Claire shook her head in disbelief.

"What?" he asked.

"You're so dense," she said, letting the water in the sink drain out.

"What?" he repeated.

She forcibly turned the faucet on again, clearly frustrated. "I care what happens to you," she said over the running water. "You're not worthless," she said firmly, looking him in the eyes. John didn't know how to respond.

The ringing phone startled them both. Claire turned off the water and picked up the receiver. "Hello?" She thought she could make out some muffled crying sounds. "Hello? Who is this?" she asked again.

"It's Brian Johnson," a shaky voice said.

Claire's heart skipped a beat and she could feel the blood drain from her face. Brian didn't sound like his usual self.

John saw Claire's expression and mouthed, _"Who is it?"_

"_Brian,"_ she mouthed back. "Are you alright? What's wrong? Did something happen?" she asked into the phone, trying not to panic.

"I hate my life," Brian said flatly.

That was all Claire had to hear. "What's your address? We'll come pick you up." John shot a puzzled look at Claire and she made a gun with her hand and pointed it at her head.

"We?" Brian asked.

"John's here."

"I don't want to be any trouble."

"You're not. Now where do you live?"

"182 Sycamore Lane, but my parents won't let me leave the house this late, it's a school night."

Claire glanced at the clock. It was a quarter to eight. "Brian, this is one of those times when it's okay not to listen them. It's for your own good." John jumped up and grabbed the phone from Claire. "Hey!" she exclaimed.

"Listen dork, we're coming to get you. Be ready when we get there." John hung up and handed the phone back to Claire. "Let's go," he said.

Claire threw the phone on her bed and grabbed a jacket from her closet. As she was putting it on, she looked at John. He only had on a short sleeved T-shirt. "C'mon, let's get you a jacket from Rick's room," she said, "He still has a ton of stuff here. I'm sure I can find something."

Claire led John into a bedroom down the hall. She turned the lights on and searched around for something for him to wear. There was less in the closet than she remembered there being. "Here," she finally said, holding up a gray sweatshirt.

John looked at the Greek letters on the front. "A fraternity?"

"Do you have something against Sigma Phi Epsilon?"

"I have a moral objection to fraternities in general," John said. "Doesn't your brother have some bitchin' rad leather jacket I can borrow?"

"I didn't see one, sorry," Claire said, impatiently waving the sweatshirt at him so he would take it.

John frowned, but took the sweatshirt anyway and put it on. "This is all part of your plan to make me more respectable, isn't it?" he asked as he looked at himself in the mirror.

Claire laughed, "Obviously."

They walked back down the hall and then down a set of stairs. As they made their way toward the back door, they had to pass by Mr. Standish's study. The door was open and light was streaming out into the hallway. Claire motioned silently for John to stop. They heard a rustling of papers and Claire peered in.

Mr. Standish looked up at the sound of the creaking floorboards. "Hi, Honey," he smiled warmly.

"Hi, Daddy. How was your dinner?"

"Good," he replied, "The Ladies Society managed to raise enough money to renovate the Children's Ward at the hospital. Your mother was very happy."

"Is she asleep already?" Claire asked.

Mr. Standish looked back at his desk and shuffled some more files around. "Yes. I'm afraid she came home a little under the weather, so she went right to bed."

Claire rolled her eyes and made a drinking motion to John. Her mother often came home from charity functions 'under the weather', and her father would have to escort her home before she made a fool out of herself.

He turned back to her. "Are you going out?" he asked, noticing Claire was wearing a jacket. She nodded. "Do you need any money?"

Claire shook her head. "No, I'm fine."

"Alright, have fun then," he said with a big smile.

"I will. Goodnight, Daddy."

"Goodnight, Honey."

Claire waited until her father's back was turned again and motioned for John to walk past the open door. When they were out of earshot, John asked, "Is he always like that?"

"Pretty much."

They walked through the kitchen and went out through the back door. When they reached the detached garage, Claire dug her keys out of her purse and unlocked the side door. She flipped a switch and the overhead door rose.

John's jaw dropped when he saw what was inside. "A Jaguar?"

"Some exclusive, limited edition model," Claire said disinterestedly. She turned to him and asked, "Do you want to drive?"

John raised an eyebrow at her. "You're going to trust _me_ to drive _that_?"

Claire shrugged and said, "We have insurance. Brian lives at 182 Sycamore Lane. Do you know where that is?"

"Yeah, I walk past there sometimes on the way to Pete's."

"Good."

They got in the car and rode in silence for a few minutes. "Is he going to meet us out front?" John asked.

"I don't know, he didn't say."

"Well, why didn't you ask him?"

"I was going to, but you took the phone away from me!"

She had him there. John thought for a moment. "Okay, how about we drive past his house and scope things out. Then, if we don't see him, we can pull over and—"

"And what?" Claire challenged, "Knock on random windows in his house until we find his?"

"Yes, Cherry, that's exactly what we're going to do," he said sarcastically, as he turned onto Sycamore Lane.

They drove down the street, but didn't see Brian anywhere, so John pulled over to the curb. They got out and Claire asked him, "So what do we do now?"

"How should I know?"

"You're the criminal, right?"

"It's not like I help dorks sneak out every night. A _normal_ person would be out here waiting for us."

"_Psst!"_ Claire and John's heads snapped in the direction of the sound. It was coming from the bushes in the side yard of Brian's house. "Guys! It's me!" he said in a loud whisper.

"Yeah, no shit," John said. "Get out of there, Rambo."

"How did you sneak out?" Claire wondered.

Brian smiled. "I came up with a brilliant plan," he said proudly. "I told my parents that I was going to be studying real hard for SATs and that I didn't want any distractions. Then I rigged a timer to turn off my lights at ten and stuffed some pillows and clothes under my blanket to make it look like I was in bed. You know, just in case they check on me, but they probably won't. Oh, and then I climbed out the window, which was easy because our house is only one story."

"Jesus," John swore under his breath as they got back into the car.

"We need to stop at a convenience store," Claire told John as he pulled away from the curb. Then she turned to the back seat and asked, "So, Brian, what happened tonight to make you so upset?"

"I had a fight with my parents. My mom wants me to go to Northwestern, you know so I'll be close to home and she can keep an eye on me, but my father wants me to go to Yale because that's where he's always wanted me to go."

"Where do _you_ want to go?" Claire asked.

"Somewhere in California. They're doing amazing things out there with computers. I think I want to be a part of that."

"Well, you still have another year before you have to decide, maybe by then your parents will come around," Claire said brightly.

"Yeah, and if not, screw them and go wherever the hell you want," John added.

"It's not that easy," Brian argued.

"Sure it is," John insisted. "It's your life. Why would you let them continue to ruin it after they're not legally responsible for you?" Brian didn't respond and they rode the rest of the way in silence.

When John pulled up to the convenience store, Claire unbuckled her seatbelt. "Keep the car running, I won't be long," she said and then asked, "Does anyone need anything?"

"Cigarettes?" John tried.

Claire wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, no."

"Why not?"

"Because, one, they make your breath disgusting, and two, you can't smoke in my house anyway."

"I wasn't going to."

"The answer's still no."

"Hurry up then, I don't want to be here all night," he said impatiently.

"Oh? You have someplace better to be?"

"I might."

"Well, then by all means—"

"Uh, guys?" Brian interrupted them.

Claire stopped arguing and remembered why she was there, "Right. I'll be back in a sec." Claire exited the car door and went inside the store.

John flipped on the radio and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the song. He didn't like the next song, so he turned the radio off again and addressed Brian in the rearview mirror. "So, Bri, what do you say we drive off and leave Claire here?"

"Where would we go?" Brian asked.

"We'd cruise around, pick up some chicks, maybe go to a club or two," John said smoothly.

"I don't think Claire would be very happy if we did that."

"Pfft. Like I care. If she didn't want her car stolen, she shouldn't have given me the keys," John replied, but Brian knew that he was just putting on an act. "You know, a car like this could set me for life," John rambled on. "I know a guy that could disassemble this thing and sell the parts for me. It'd be easy money."

"What, from selling my car? Just make sure you get a fair price," Claire said as she climbed back into the passenger seat.

"Will do."

Claire took the first-aid supplies out of her shopping bag and stuffed them into her purse. She then produced a small package, and offered it to John. "Here. That's your brand, right?"

John took the pack of cigarettes and said quietly, "Yeah, thanks."

In the backseat, Brian smiled. Those two were so crazy about each other.

xxx

When they arrived back at Claire's house, she led them through the yard to the front door so that they wouldn't have to pass by her father again. Claire unlocked the door and entered first, checking if the coast was clear. "Ok, we should be fine coming in through here," Claire said, opening the door wider. "Just be quiet."

When John walked through the door he chuckled to himself.

Claire turned around and gave him a puzzled look. "What's so funny?" she asked.

"I've never come in through the door, always the window," he replied.

Claire smiled briefly, and then said sadly, "I'm sorry about that. I hate that I have to hide you from my parents."

They made it back to Claire's bedroom without incident and John followed Claire back into the bathroom and sat down. He pushed up his sleeves and held out his arm for Claire. "Rip it off quick," he said.

Claire just gave him a look and gently pulled the tape off. The cut had bled some more, but it didn't look too bad to Claire. As she applied the butterfly bandages, John asked her, "What ever happened to using me to get back at your parents?"

Claire didn't miss a beat. "I never wanted to use you," she replied.

John stared at her for a moment, relishing the mushy moment, but not wanting to get too caught up in it. He gave her a smile and she went back to work on him.

She finished wrapping some gauze around his arm and inspected her handiwork. "Okay, you're all set. Why don't you go pick out a movie with Brian while I clean up in here?"

"He's going to want to watch something lame, I just know it," John complained as he left the bathroom.

As she washed John's jacket, Claire could hear them fighting over what to watch. "What about Raiders of the Lost Ark?" Brian asked.

"No, Claire and I watched that last week," John said.

"Poltergeist?" Brian tried again.

"Watched it a couple of days ago."

Brian was clearly getting frustrated with John. "If you've watched so many already, why did you ask me what I wanted to watch?"

"So I could see if you have bad taste in movies," John said as if he was stating the obvious.

"I want to watch Annie," Claire yelled out to them. She heard them groan in response and laughed.

"How about one of the Star Wars movies?" suggested Brian.

"She doesn't have any of them and I told her that she doesn't know what she's missing, but I don't think she was convinced," John explained loudly.

Claire rolled her eyes at his comment as she hung his jacket over a towel bar to dry. "How about E.T.?" she asked, walking back into her bedroom.

But before either one could answer, there was a knock on the bedroom door. Everyone froze. "Claire?" called a voice.

"Just a second!" she called back. She waited until John and Brian were safely hidden in the closet to open the door. It was her brother. "What are you doing here, Rick?" she asked in an annoyed tone.

Rick looked her over. She didn't have any visible bandages. "Making sure you're okay," he said, looking around her room. "Something seemed off on the phone."

"I told you, I'm fine. It was just a hypothetical situation."

"Uh-huh. Expecting company?" He pointed to the pile of pillows and blankets on the sofa.

"Mrs. Nakamura left them there," Claire covered.

"And yet, somehow, I don't believe you," he said, heading to her bathroom.

"Where are you going?" she panicked.

"Just checking behind the shower curtain for your hidden friend. Oldest hiding place in the book." He turned the lights on and noticed a bunch of first-aid supplies on the counter, as well as a man's denim jacket hanging up to dry. "Oh my god," he said excitedly. "Your friend is a he! My baby sister isn't as innocent as she seems."

"Oh please."

Rick looked around again. "So where is he? Closet?"

"Yeah."

"Darn! That was my second choice. So, c'mon, introduce me," he insisted.

Claire reluctantly walked over to the closet and opened the door. Brian stumbled out of the closet, followed by John.

Rick was confused. "There's two of them?" It wasn't like his sister to sneak one boy into the house, let alone two.

"These are my friends Brian Johnson and John Bender."

Rick pointed at John. "Hey! A fellow SigEp. I have that same sweatshirt."

"Yeah, no kidding," John said under his breath.

"So, do you go to Northwestern too? I haven't seen you before, but I'm not as active with the frat these days."

"Yeah, man. I'm pre-law," John said.

"Really? Do you know—"

"No," Claire cut him off. "He goes to Shermer High. They both do. I just let him borrow your sweatshirt."

"Oh." Rick looked at John more closely and noticed a few things. A pierced ear, torn jeans, and worn out boots. The guy was certainly different from Claire's usual friends. Then he noticed the bandage on his forearm just under the pushed up sleeve of the sweatshirt and things fell into place. "Oh!" he exclaimed, "You're not hypothetical after all. Or a girl." He extended his hand. "Hi, I'm Rick, it's nice to finally meet Claire's boyfriend. She's told me nothing about you, of course."

"Why did you assume he was her boyfriend and not me?" Brian wondered.

"Good one, dork." Rick slapped Brian on the back and laughed until he saw the look on his face. "Oh, you were serious. Sorry, man."

John grinned. Claire's brother seemed like a cool guy with a good sense of humor. "I think I like him," he commented to Claire.

"Well, now that I know nothing weird is going on, I guess I can leave. Dork, keep an eye on my sister and make sure _he_," he tilted his head toward John, "Doesn't try anything. Oh, and, Poser?" he addressed John, "Remember that with money comes the ability to hire assassins. Have a nice night," he smiled sweetly. As he turned to leave, he grabbed Claire's arm. "Walk me out," he said, pulling her into the hall. Once they were in the foyer, he let go. "Alright, explain."

"It's complicated."

"No, organic chemistry is complicated, this is easy," he said, but Claire remained silent. "Okay, let's start with what I've figured out. John's not exactly the sort of person someone Mom would approve of, right? Even if he was the nicest guy in the world?"

Claire knew he was referring to John's social status. "Right," she replied.

Rick was beginning to understand Claire's desire to keep quiet. "And somehow John ended up with bruised ribs, a nasty gash on one arm, and what looked like a cigar burn on the other. You're taking care of his injuries because he doesn't want to go to the hospital… I'm going to guess there's trouble at home?" Claire nodded, confirming his suspicions.

"He stays here sometimes," she admitted. "But before you say anything, I'm not doing it because I feel sorry for him, or because I pity him. He's not a charity case. He's a nice guy, and he's intelligent, and yeah, sometimes he's annoying and arrogant, but I really like him." Claire felt a weight lifted off her shoulders with her confession.

"Whoa, it's okay. I'm not Mom, you don't have to justify him to me, I liked the guy. What I can't figure out, though, is where Brian fits in to all this."

Claire laughed. "He's a friend of ours from school. He also has a messed up home life and we're helping him through it." She noticed that Rick was looking at her strangely. "What?"

"I'm proud of you," he said. "There was a time when I worried that you were going to turn out like Mom. I mean you had those stuck-up little friends and all you talked about was shopping and nail polish. I'm glad you've finally moved past all that."

Claire blushed. She was really happy that Rick thought she was changing for the better. "I should get back up there," she said. "Thanks for checking up on me. You're not going to mention this to anyone, right?"

"Nope. And listen, if John's arm doesn't get better, let me know and I'll take a look at it."

"Okay. Bye." She reached up and gave him a hug.

"Bye."

xxx

John and Brian were watching MTV when Claire came back to her room. She sat on the floor between them and leaned back against her bed.

"You really need to get an Atari," John said as he rested his arm on her shoulders.

"Why?"

"Because it would give us something else to do."

Claire dismissed the idea, "I wouldn't even know how to use it. I'm not very good at arcade games."

"That's because you're a girl," he teased. Claire slapped him on the knee and gave him a dirty look. John gave her a smirk.

"Oh no," Brian suddenly moaned.

Claire and John turned to see Brian staring at the toothpaste commercial on the TV with a worried expression.

"What's wrong?" Claire asked.

"I just remembered that I didn't bring my toothbrush."

"So? Neither did I," John said.

"John, proper oral hygiene is extremely important," Brian explained. "If you don't take care of your teeth now, they're going to fall out by the time you're forty."

Claire stifled a giggle and reassured Brian, "I'm sure your teeth will be fine for one night."

"Yeah, but my mom will know I didn't brush them."

"How?" she wondered.

"I don't know. She has some kind of sixth sense about these things," Brian said. Claire and John laughed at him and he gave them a weak smile, but still felt worried. He cleared his throat and changed the subject. "Uh, so, where am I going to sleep?"

"On the sofa bed," Claire answered.

John pulled away from Claire. "How come he gets it? _I'm_ the wounded one! Make _him_ sleep on the floor!" he complained.

"You get the other half of my bed," Claire said.

"Ah," John said slowly, a grin forming on his face, "Finally decided that you couldn't resist my charm?"

Claire narrowed her eyes at him. "If you don't think you can behave yourself, I'll sleep on the sofa bed and you can share my bed with Brian," she threatened.

John crossed himself and held up his right hand. "I promise I'll be good," he said.

He seemed sincere, but Brian wondered if John would be on the floor by morning.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Wednesday, April 25**__**th**__**, 1984**_

Early Wednesday morning, Claire's alarm clock went off. She reached a hand out from under the covers and hit the snooze button. As she gradually woke, she realized that at some point in the night, John had crossed his agreed upon boundary and was spooned against her, proving that he was a rebel even in his sleep. Claire shifted and John stirred, mumbling something into the back of her neck that sounded like, "Why are we awake so early?"

"Because we have to sneak Brian back into his house, remember?" Claire answered.

"Right," John said through a yawn. "Tell him to walk home. I'm going back to sleep." He rolled over onto his back.

Claire turned over to face him. "John, c'mon," she shook his shoulder gently.

"No, I'm asleep. Go away," he said, his eyes still closed

Claire propped herself up on her elbow and leaned over him. He didn't move. Slowly, she lowered her head down, until her lips just barely brushed against his. John finally opened his eyes and looked up at her. Claire hovered over him. "Good morning," she said, smiling.

"I've had worse," John said and pulled her down into a kiss. He slid his hands under her shirt, and when Claire didn't protest, he cautiously moved them higher. He was going to see how far he could push his luck when the alarm went off for a second time and Claire pulled away. John groaned at the loss of contact.

"We really need to get up," she said, adjusting her shirt as she climbed out of bed.

"I'm already up," John teased in a low, seductive voice.

Claire looked back at him, fully intending to tell him off, but when she met his lustful gaze, her face went hot and she got all flustered. She tried to hide her embarrassment by hurrying over to her closet and grabbing an armful of clothes, telling him, "I'm just going to go get ready," as she stumbled into bathroom.

John relished in his ability to get under her skin as he stretched out in bed, deciding to lie there for a few minutes longer. He was used to waking up in places other than his own bed, but it had been strange waking up next to a beautiful girl. He wondered what the hell he had done to deserve it, but if it was all because of the false alarm he pulled, he would have to thank Spezz for giving him the idea.

He watched the clock display, silently willing time would stop so he wouldn't have to get up, but the numbers advanced anyway. "Fuck you," he said under his breath, and finally got out of bed. He retrieved his jeans from where he had hung them over a chair and pulled them on, then ran a hand through his hair and figured he was good to go.

Light snoring from across the room reminded him that he wasn't alone. He looked over at the sofa bed where Brian was still sound asleep. "Hey Bri," he called, "Rise and shine."

Brian sat up with a start, not remembering where he was at first. Then realization sunk in and he relaxed. He got out of bed and struggled to fold it back up before John came over and helped him.

"So…" Brian began, wondering how he should break the silence as they waited for Claire. "Uh, we're working on circuit boards in shop now. They seem pretty cool and I understand all the concepts behind them, you know, resistance, capacitance. I'm just not very good at the practical application. And, I, uh, I have this project due on Monday, but I'm worried it won't work again," he admitted.

"Check your solder points," John suggested. "If they're too big, they'll screw up your circuit."

"I'll try that, thanks."

"Yeah," John said and then he saw the look that Brian was giving him. "This doesn't make us friends, you know."

Brian tried to act cool. "Right. I know."

"Okay."

"Okay."

There was an awkward tension between them and John went over and banged on the bathroom door. "Hey Queenie, we've been waiting out here for hours. I would've slept some more if I knew you were going to take this long." Claire opened the door and gave him an annoyed look, tossed him his jacket, and then they left.

The car trip was made in tired silence. It wasn't until John pulled up to the curb a few houses down from the Johnson residence that anyone spoke. In the backseat, Brian expressed his concern, "What do I say if I get caught?"

"Tell them to fuck off," John said.

"I can't—"

"Look, they're probably still asleep, right?"

"Right…"

"Then just be quiet and they won't even know you were gone." Brian seemed to accept this and got out of the car.

"Uh, thanks guys," he said, bending down to the open passenger window.

"Anytime," Claire smiled.

"Just remember this when you're a rich computer guy someday!" John yelled after him.

They could just make out Brian's form in the dim light of dawn and they watched as he climbed back in through his bedroom window. Once they saw him turn back around and give them a thumb's up, John pulled away from the curb.

"Now what?" he asked as he drove down the street.

"Let's get some breakfast," Claire said.

John thought for a second. "There's a diner on North Street that has decent food. Do you want to go there?"

"Sounds good."

XXX

Claire talked while they waited for the waitress. "I ran into Andy the other day," she said. "Apparently him and Allison got into a fight because he assumed she was going to the prom with him. He said it was this whole big dramatic episode, but I guess they made up already." Claire set her menu down. "I think I'm going to ask Allison to go dress shopping with me. I don't think she has anyone else to go with and I thought it would be a nice gesture."

"About the prom—" John started to say, but the waitress interrupted.

"Here you go," The waitress said, setting their drinks in front of them. "Now what else can I get you?" she asked them.

"I'll have the omelet," Claire said. "Without the bacon please." She looked across the table and saw that John was still deciding. "Order whatever you want," she told him.

John had been trying to decide between pancakes and French toast, but Claire's statement, as innocent as it was, brought him crashing back to reality and he remembered that he didn't actually have much money on him. Sleeping in a big house, driving around in a Jaguar, it was all just temporary. He didn't actually belong to her world. He would've laughed at himself for forgetting if he didn't feel so pathetic. He closed his menu. "I'll just stick with the coffee," he told the waitress. She collected their menus and left.

Claire wondered if John wasn't feeling well. "Why didn't you order anything else?" she asked.

"I wouldn't expect someone like you to know this, but most places don't like it when you can't pay for your food," John explained.

"But I was going to pay for your breakfast."

"Who asked you to do that anyway?" he challenged.

"No one. I just thought—"

"You thought wrong."

"Fine," Claire backed off, but was still confused about what had just happened. She took a sip of her orange juice and changed the subject. "How's your arm? Does it hurt?"

John shrugged and dumped two packets of sugar into his coffee. "Not really," he said.

"Just make sure you keep it clean so it doesn't get infected. And let me know if it doesn't heal."

"What are you, a nurse now?" John asked.

"No, just—"

"'Cuz if you are, you really should wear one of those nurse uniforms," he said suggestively. "You know, the kind that's so tight that it leaves nothing to the imagination?"

"Do you always think about sex?"

"Apparently."

Claire just shook her head. Thankfully, the waitress arrived soon after with her omelet. She felt guilty eating in front of John, but he didn't seem too bothered by it. He was more interested in playing with the paper ring from his napkin. She tried to start up a conversation again. "Do you think it will be impossible to find pumpkins at this time of year?" she asked.

John looked up in complete confusion. "As in real, actual pumpkins?"

"Yeah, some of the girls want to use pumpkins to decorate the prom because it's a fairytale theme, and you know, Cinderella means pumpkins. We're supposed to discuss it today in our meeting."

"How appropriate," John said to himself.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No, what's appropriate?"

"A fairytale theme for the 'big night'," he said sarcastically.

"Am I missing something?" she asked.

"It's just, you work all year to create this perfect prom so that everyone can have the best night of their young lives. And everything has a magical feel to it, right?"

"Yeah, like a fairytale," Claire tried to follow where he was going. "What's wrong with that?"

"Well, what happens afterward? On the next day?"

"What do you mean? Nothing happens, it's already over by then. Mr. Ryan comes in and helps us clean up the gym and then we go home."

A smirk crept across John's face. "Ah, but stuff _does_ happen. Someone will regret getting drunk, someone else will regret having sex, and couples will inevitably fight and break up because nothing can compare to their 'magical' night at the prom. That's why it's fitting that you chose a fairytale theme."

"I still don't understand."

"My point, Rapunzel, is that fairytales only have happy endings because they stop before the shit hits the fan," he explained. "Why do you think they gloss over the rest of the story with that 'happily ever after' bullshit? It's because Cinderella's problems didn't go away after the ball. If anything, they probably got worse. Think about all the consequences that would've resulted from her marrying above her class. How long do you think it was before the Prince regretted his decision and took it out on Cinderella? I bet they got into some pretty heated arguments after the ball and he knocked her around a bit." He paused and took a sip of his coffee, "But no one wants to read about _that_."

"Because it's depressing and boring," Claire countered.

"Yeah, but it's real life. All believing in fairytales does is make you delude yourself into thinking that _this_," he gestured between them, "Is some kind of story where we ride off together into the sunset and get a happy ending. But it's not going to happen. We live in a reality where nothing can ever be one hundred percent perfect."

"In that example… are you Cinderella or am I?" Claire asked. John sighed in frustration, and Claire turned serious. "I get what you're saying, but I don't like to worry about stuff like that. And anyway, I think you're being too pessimistic. There are plenty of people in the world who lead happy lives, despite the many problems they've faced along the way," she said, setting her fork down. "I can't eat anymore. Do you want the rest?"

John hesitated for a moment, fighting an internal battle, and then finally relented and took the plate from her.

Claire yawned. "Maybe I should've ordered something with caffeine," she said. "I'm not looking forward to that meeting after school. It's going to last forever because no one can ever agree on anything. I'll be lucky if I can make it home tonight without passing out from exhaustion somewhere along the way."

"Just sleep in class. It's surprisingly easy," John said with his mouth full.

"And end up in detention again? No thank you," she dismissed his idea.

"You don't want to spend time more with me? I'm hurt."

"Well, I have to go out with my other boyfriend sometimes. He'll get jealous if I spend all my time with you," she teased.

"As if you could ever want another guy after you've experienced the joy of dating John Bender," he joked, but it somehow it had sounded funnier in his head. Claire laughed though. He finished the omelet and took one last sip of his coffee. "Let's get out of here," he said, "I don't want to be late for homeroom." He slid out of the booth.

"Do you even go to homeroom?" Claire wondered as she took out her wallet.

He answered her as he searched through his pockets, "When I say homeroom I mean 'smoking in the parking lot before first period'."

Claire left some money on the table and stood up. "We still have plenty of time to get to school," she said, glancing at her watch.

John found what he was looking for and tossed a dollar bill and some coins onto the table with her money. He took the long way to school, which killed some time and let him drive the car for a while longer. Claire was pretty quiet the whole way. He wondered if he had gone too far with his prom bashing. He hadn't meant to get on his soapbox, but sometimes the differences in their beliefs really annoyed him.

When they arrived at school, there were already a lot of people there, but John was able to find an empty spot in the parking lot that wasn't too far from where his friends hung out. Claire met him in front of the car when they got out and started to lean in for a kiss.

John raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you worried someone will see us?" he asked.

"I'll make it quick," she said and tenderly kissed him. When she pulled back she looked like she was going to tell him something, but then thought better of it. "I should go," she finally said.

John nodded and handed Claire her car keys. "See you around, Princess."

"Bye," she said and they went their separate ways.

XXX

In the parking lot, two rows over, Ashley and Denise sat in stunned silence as they watched the events before them unfold. "Tell me I did not just see that," Ashley said when she finally regained the power of speech.

"I can't believe she actually let him drive her car," Denise said, trying to comprehend what she had seen. She turned to Ashley, "This goes _waaay_ beyond a casual fling, you know."

"Well, I had hoped that's all it was," Ashley commented. She furrowed her brow and watched Claire walk into school. "I'm worried about her. She's been acting strange lately, wanting to stay at home instead of coming out with us."

"That's right," Denise agreed. "She missed Stephanie's annual birthday bash last weekend and that big sale on shoes at Neiman Marcus."

"What if something's really wrong? That Bender guy seems like the controlling type. What if he threatened Claire and is making her go out with him or something?"

"He is pretty violent."

"I don't know why else she'd be with him. I mean, wasn't he in jail at some point?" Ashley asked.

Denise shook her head. "Michelle Manning said that he was arrested for killing a teacher in ninth grade, but they never found the body so they dropped the charges. And now all of the teachers are too scared to kick him out of class," Denise said, matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, but Michelle also says she doesn't stuff her bra," Ashley scoffed. "Though I guess the rumors had to come from somewhere," she said.

"What should we do?" Denise asked.

"I know just the thing," Ashley said and she opened her purse and flipped through her address book. She dialed a number on her car phone. "Mrs. Standish please," she said. "Hello? Mrs. Standish? This is Ashley. That's right. There's something I think you should know about Claire..."

XXX

John sat on the curb next to Spezz and lit his cigarette. Pete joined them a few minutes later when Eric dropped him off. "Hey Bender! You're here early," he greeted him.

"Yeah, I'm feeling academic today," John replied.

"You should see the wheels he rolled up in," Spezz said excitedly as he pointed to the green Jaguar parked a few rows over.

"Seriously?"

John shrugged nonchalantly, trying to hold back his smile.

Pete looked at John and noticed that he was wearing the same jeans and black 'The Doors' T-shirt as yesterday. "You didn't go home last night," he concluded. "And you haven't been coming over to _my_ place," he thought out loud. And then it hit him. "Oh, Jesus! You and that rich bitch _are_ together! I thought it was just talk, but man… I never would've guessed it was true."

"Why the fuck do you care anyway?" John snapped at him.

Pete raised his hands defensively in front of him and said, "Whoa, I just don't want to see you get burned is all."

"Yeah, you gotta be careful with a chick like that," Spezz added. "She's probably just using you to make the quarterback jealous."

XXX

When Claire got home from school that night, it was almost dinnertime. She started up the stairs to her room, but her mother stopped her mid-way.

"Claire darling, could you come here for a minute?" Mrs. Standish had appeared at the base of the staircase and was looking smug.

Claire descended back down the stairs and eyed her mother warily. "What do you need?" she asked, forcing her voice into an unnaturally cheery tone.

"Do you remember Mrs. Worthington's son, Parker? Oh probably not, I don't think you seen him in ages. They've been out of the country for a while, but are back home now. Well, anyway, Mrs. Worthington mentioned to me that Parker doesn't have many friends here yet. So, I told her that you would be more than happy to meet with him tonight so that you two can socialize," Mrs. Standish said as though it were the greatest thing in the world.

Claire couldn't hide her displeasure. So, Parker was _that_ Parker. She was getting tired of hearing everyone at school swoon over him, but to have to hear about him at home too was too much. "Mother! I can't believe you would tell her that without consulting me! I've told you a million times that I'm not interested in being fixed up with your friend's sons!"

"It's not a date, it's helping a nice boy make some new friends," Mrs. Standish said soothingly. "I'm only asking you to spend a couple of hours with him. And then if you like him you can see him again."

"But I already have—" Claire caught herself before she let it slip that she had a boyfriend.

"Yes?" Mrs. Standish waited for her to finish.

"Plans," Claire lied.

Mrs. Standish was no longer smiling. "I won't take no for an answer, Claire," she said tersely. "It would be terribly rude on your part and it would reflect badly on me. Now go freshen up, I'll call the Worthington's and have Parker come right over."

Claire stormed up the stairs and into her room where she flopped down onto the bed. It was just like her mother to interfere like this. Claire eyed her window and thought about escaping and driving off somewhere. She looked at the clock, there was still time. She called John, hoping he would tell her what to do, but no one answered.

Claire sighed and she realized that she was being childish. She might actually have fun tonight. No one had taken her out in quite some time and she kind of missed it. Besides, it wasn't a date, so there wasn't anything to feel guilty about, she rationalized.

A half an hour later, Claire was in the arcade at the pizzeria, standing in line at the change machine with Parker, sorely regretting her decision not to flee. As much as she tried to convince herself that it was just a casual outing between friends, she just couldn't shake the feeling that it just felt wrong. It didn't help that Parker kept flirting with her and touching her ever so slightly, resting a hand on her back or her arm.

Parker was everything Claire used to look for in a guy. He was handsome, he was rich, and he was totally shallow. If things had been different, she probably would have wanted to see him again. But that was the old Claire. The new Claire couldn't stand him, he reminded her of how she used to be.

After watching Parker play various games for what seemed like forever, Claire had finally convinced him to eat. "This is a fun place," Claire said as she sat down in the booth with her tray of food. She didn't know what to talk about and it felt odd not to have any friendly banter going back and forth. "I'm surprised how many people from school are here."

Parker sat down across from her. "Yeah, that's how I found out about it," he said. "I asked Tony where everyone hung out and this is what he said." He flashed her a grin.

"I see," Claire replied and she struggled to settle her queasy stomach so she could eat.

"Are you okay?" Parker asked. "You look a little pale."

"Actually, I'm not feeling very well. Could you please take me home?"

Parker's smile faltered, but he recovered quickly. "Of course," he said. "I just want to cash in my tickets in real quick before we go. I think I have enough for an Atari game."

"I've been thinking about buying one of those," Claire commented as she gathered her things.

"An Atari game?"

"No, a whole system. Are they any fun?"

"Well, sure, it's like having an arcade at home."

XXX

"It's nice of your girlfriend to give you the night off," Pete teased John as they walked into the pizzeria.

"But you know she'll call him and he'll just go running back to her side tomorrow," Spezz said.

"And then we'll go back to feeling all hurt and neglected," Pete pouted and gave John a sad puppy dog look. John rolled his eyes and playfully shoved him. They had been teasing him all day.

They started toward the arcade machines, but Spezz stopped them. "I want to eat first, I'm starving."

"You're always—" John stopped in mid-sentence when he saw Claire by the arcade prize counter. He couldn't stop staring, hoping that it was just his imagination, but no, Claire was with another guy and they were talking like they were old friends. He froze and for the first time in his life, he was unable to speak, not even to swear.

"What's wrong?" Pete asked, and then he followed John's line of sight. "Ooh, that's harsh. I'm sorry, man."

Spezz looked on knowingly. "It's always like that isn't it? Richies just want to experience our world, Bender, they don't ever want to live in it. It's like some adventure for them," he said. "They think 'Teehee, I'll go slumming, it'll be fun.' But then when they find out there's no BMWs they get all upset. Assholes!" He said the last part a little too loudly and a couple of people turned to look at them.

"Let's get out of here," Pete said, sensing there would be trouble if they stayed. John reluctantly listened and followed them outside.

"Fuck!" John shouted as he punched the brick wall. He flexed his hand and watched as the blood trickled down his knuckles. It didn't hurt at all. Spezz came up along side him.

"Hey man, I've got some fucking wicked shit we can smoke," he said, pulling a baggie discretely out of his pocket. "C'mon, I know a place we can go."

John started to follow him, but Pete blocked his path. "Just don't do anything stupid."

John laughed off his concern. "Too late," he said, stepping easily around Pete.

XXX

Claire's ride home was quiet. When they reached her house she turned to get out of the truck, but Parker stopped her. "I had a really nice time tonight."

"Me too," Claire said politely.

"I was wondering if we could do this again sometime?" he asked hopefully.

Claire decided that she might as well tell him the truth, "Sorry, I don't know what my mother led you to believe, but I already have a boyfriend."

Parker shrugged. "Then I'll just have to prove to you that I'm better than he is," he said with a charming smile.

Claire gave him a weak smile and climbed out of his truck. "Bye!" She called as she ran up to the front door. Thankfully her mother wasn't around, so she went straight up to her room and passed out.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Thursday, April 26**__**th**__**, 1984**_

Claire tossed her purse and books on her desk when she came home on Thursday afternoon. It had been a tense day. She had worried the whole day that someone would find out that she was out with Parker the previous night. There had been a lot of people at the pizzeria from school, but it seemed that none of them had noticed, or cared. Claire wasn't exactly hiding her 'date', but she was afraid that Ashley would be jealous when she found out that Claire had gone out with her crush. And then she'd never hear the end of it.

The other thing that had Claire worried was John. Or more specifically, the _lack_ of John. He hadn't been at school today, and while she was sure it wasn't the first time he had skipped, she was scared that something terrible had happened to him. The whole second half of the day, when it was apparent that John wasn't going to show up late, she had felt uneasy and couldn't wait to get home so she could call him. She only hoped that he would pick up the phone. She sat down on her bed and dialed his number.

A very ragged sounding John answered. "Hello?"

Claire felt relief wash over her immediately. "Hi, it's me. I'm so glad you answered."

"Who is this?"

"It's Claire," she explained slowly, unsure of why he didn't recognize her voice.

"Oh, _Cherry_," he said, almost mockingly. "What do you want?"

Claire was taken aback by his strange tone. "Are you alright?" she wondered.

"Peachy," he answered.

She didn't believe him. "I was worried when you weren't at school today."

"Yeah, I'll bet you were crushed."

"Okay, something is definitely wrong. Why didn't you come to school? Did something happen?"

"Yeah," John chuckled. "Spezz gave me some awesome shit and I was too fucked up to go anywhere."

"Maybe I should come pick you up. What's your address?" she asked, her concern for him growing.

"Ha ha ha. If I had money, I'd pay to see that. Her Majesty comes to visit the Bender household. Don't bother. You'd just get dirt on your five-hundred dollar shoes."

"Tell me what I can do then," she pleaded, frustrated by his stubbornness.

"I think you've done enough already. So, here's an idea, why don't you go run along and be with your stuck-up little friends? Just leave me with the rest of the trash."

Claire could feel her heart sink. She had a horrible feeling that she wasn't going to like what was coming next. "What do you mean?"

"Do I have to spell it out? I. Don't. Need. You. I don't even want to be _near_ you. In fact, I don't care if I never see you again," he proclaimed.

Claire tried one last time to get through to him, "What happened? Are you sure you're alright?"

"Better than I've been in a long time, now that I'm through with you."

Claire went through everything in her head, trying to figure out where she went wrong, but could find nothing. "But you told me—"

"Wow, you really believed all those things I said? God, you're dumber than I thought," he spat. "How can I explain this so you'll understand? It was all an act. Pete bet me fifty bucks that I couldn't get a richie like you to date me. He paid up after he saw me driving your car, so now I don't need you anymore. You know, you should consider yourself lucky, I could've got a hundred bucks if we fucked, but I didn't want to lower myself that much."

Claire tried to stifle her sob, but was unsuccessful.

"Why don't you go cry to your daddy?" John taunted. "Maybe he'll buy you another car."

"Fuck you!" she yelled and threw the phone on the floor.

The anger wore off quickly and the shock of being dumped set in. All Claire could do was sit on her bed, knees hugged to her chest, and cry. Somewhere in the back of her mind, it occurred to her that she should call Brian or Rick, but she couldn't motivate herself into doing it. She wouldn't know what she would say to either of them. She'd probably just end up crying more and they would feel like they had to comfort her and she didn't want their pity.

It was a while later, after Claire had run out of tears, that the phone rang. It startled her and she got up off the bed and walked across the room to where the phone had landed. She composed herself and answered it. "Hello?"

It was Denise. "Why didn't you tell us that you went out with Parker Worthington last night?"

The other shoe had dropped on Claire's already terrible day. "Oh. Well, it wasn't really a big deal and I thought Ashley might be upset because she likes him."

"No, she's totally excited because you've come to your senses and are back on our side. That's what it means, right?" Denise asked.

Claire didn't answer immediately. She still had Andy, Allison, and Brian, but without John, was it really worth being friends with them? She could feel herself slipping back to her old self automatically. "Yeah, it does," she answered.

"Oh good! I'm so glad you finally dumped that waste of space stoner."

"Me too, I mean what was I thinking? I was a total mental case."

XXX

On Friday morning Claire got her things from her locker and walked down the hall. On her way she saw Allison and Andy talking to each other, but she walked by them without a hello or even a glance. She went directly over to Denise's locker where the rest of her friends were. Carrie gave her a pointed, 'we need to talk' look, but Claire tried her best to ignore it.

"We all heard about your date the other night, Claire," Ashley said, "And we decided that we wouldn't hold that stunt you pulled against you."

"Stunt?" asked Claire.

"Yeah, you know, how you went slumming and made out with that loser?" Denise said and then added, "It's too bad that Andy won't ever see the light like you did. We're going to have to stop considering him as potential boyfriend material."

"I know, that basket case totally made him quit wrestling, what a loss," Claire added, even though she knew how wrong it was. It was surprisingly easy to slide back into the habits of her safe and comfortable old life.

Parker approached Claire's group moments later. "Good morning ladies," he greeted them as he slipped an arm around Claire and kissed her cheek. Her friends cooed and awed. Claire forced a smile. Parker did seem nice, but she wasn't sure she wanted to date anyone so soon after breaking up with John. She tried to shrug his arm off, but he didn't get the hint.

"Do you want a ride home after school?" Parker asked.

"No thanks, I don't need one today."

"Then can I pick you up on Monday morning?" he asked.

"But Carrie usually gives me a ride in the morning," Claire said, looking over at Carrie hoping she would save her. Carrie looked like she didn't know what to say, not wanting to get in the middle of things.

"I'm sure Carrie doesn't mind, do you?" Parker asked Carrie.

Carrie shrugged. "Claire can ride with whoever she wants."

"Then it's settled," Parker said.

XXX

"What the hell is going on?" Andy asked dumbfounded. All he and Allison could do was watch from across the hall as Claire ignored them and laughed it up with her other friends.

"I knew there was a reason I didn't trust her," Allison said.

"Yeah, but she really changed. I know she did," Andy insisted.

"Apparently she changed back." Allison shrugged, "No big deal. I somehow survived before she was nice to me."

But Andy wasn't as easily reassured. She had become a good friend to him and was really the only confidant he had that he could talk to about Allison. He was still staring as Brian walked by.

"Hey guys, what's up?" And then he followed Andy's line of sight. "Claire with another guy? No way." He felt like his whole life had been turned upside down and he was now living in some kind of bizarro world. He couldn't believe for a second that the happy, completely-in-love-with-John, Claire had turned around so fast. He wondered what happened, but for once his logic failed him.

Just then, someone walking down the hall caught Allison's eye. "Bender's coming," she said.

"Shit," said Andy and Brian in unison.

XXX

Claire heard someone walk up behind her. She turned around to face John and felt all the air being sucked out of her lungs. It took all of her strength to keep a stony face so that he wouldn't have the satisfaction of knowing how much he affected her.

"Hey, Claaaire," John said, emphasizing her name like he did when he said it belonged to a fat girl.

Parker turned and sized up John. "Excuse me, do we know you?" he asked, giving John a condescending look.

John ignored Parker and looked only at Claire, feigning a pained look. "Aw, Cherry, did you forget to mention me to your newest boy-toy?" Claire looked away and John turned his attention to Parker. "Claire and I were, until recently, how should I put it? Spending our nights sleeping together. Weren't we, Claire?" Claire didn't confirm or deny his statement.

Parker closed the gap between him and John. "She's my girl now, so you had better back off, or we're going to have a problem here," he said.

"You can have her, man. I just thought I'd warn you that you were getting my sloppy seconds." John smirked.

"That's it!" Parker grabbed John's shirt collar and shoved him up against a row of lockers. He managed to get in a few punches before Mr. Vernon came running down the hall and broke them up.

John adjusted his clothes and ran his tongue along his teeth, checking to see if any were missing. He had underestimated the yuppie, Parker punched as hard and as angry as his old man. John glanced over at Claire and saw that she was almost in tears. _Good._

Mr. Vernon was seething. "My office, now!" he shouted.

"Whatever you say, Dick," he said as he strode off down the hall.

Parker just laughed. "Can you believe that guy?" Claire said nothing.

"You too, Mr. Worthington," Mr. Vernon said, pointing in the direction of his office.

"I'll see you later, Claire," Parker said.

When he left with Mr. Vernon, Denise and Ashley swooned. "Wow. I can't believe he got into a fight for you!" Denise said excitedly.

"It's soo romantic," Ashley said dreamily.

"Yeah," was all Claire could manage to answer. She was still thinking about the fight. She didn't know why, after he had been so mean to her, but all she could do was worry about John. He didn't have anyone to take care of him now. What would happen if Mr. Vernon called home? John was already hurt, so what would happen if his father punished him for causing trouble? No, she couldn't let herself think about him like that anymore. He didn't need her, he'd made that perfectly clear.

The bell rang and they all started to walk to class, but Carrie pulled Claire aside. "So, what happened between you and John?" she asked in a hushed voice. "You guys were so good together. You know, from what I could tell from afar while you were making out. Plus, I could tell he made you really happy."

"I was so stupid," Claire said with a forced a laugh. "He was just using me to win a bet."

"Oh, that's so sad," Carrie said, genuinely disappointed. "I was really rooting for you."

Claire shrugged it off like it was nothing. "I should be used to it by now. Everyone just uses me."

"So, are you really going to date Parker then?"

"I guess. I don't really have any reason not to now."

"I can think of a few. He kind of gives off a weird vibe for one."

"Really? I didn't notice anything like that," she lied.

Carrie eyed her skeptically. "Right… Hey, I have an idea! Why don't you let me fix you up with one of Greg's friends instead?"

"I don't know…"

"You should at least come out with us sometime then. No pressure, just fun. We go to an awesome club in the city a lot. They're always having an all-ages night and there's some really great local music. You'd like it."

"Maybe," Claire said.

"Think about it," Carrie called as she entered her classroom, leaving Claire alone in the hall.


	8. Chapter 8

**_Monday, May 14th, 1984_**

The remaining members of the Breakfast Club never found out exactly what had happened to break John and Claire up. Brian let out a frustrated sigh as he went over it in his head again. Andy and Allison may have been okay with writing the two off, but he couldn't drop the issue so easily. Something about the whole thing bothered him.

Over the course of the last couple of weeks Brian had watched both Claire and John deteriorate. John had been causing more trouble than usual. He had started smoking cigarettes in the halls and there was a rumor that he had slashed Mr. Vernon's tires. Brian was worried that he would be expelled soon.

Claire, on the other hand, seemed to have completely withdrawn from the world. Whenever she was by herself she seemed so lifeless, the fiery spark she once had was completely gone from her eyes. Brian watched her on Monday at lunch again as she sat with her friends, pretending to be happy one minute and looking distant the next. When she excused herself, Brian got up from his table as well. He hurried off in the direction he saw Claire go in. It felt very familiar.

He found her sitting at one of the tables in the courtyard outside, watching some guys play basketball. "Hey, Claire," he said as he sat down across from her.

Claire didn't look at him, but responded, "What do you want?" And then added as an afterthought, "Dweeb."

"You'll have to do more than that to get rid of me," Brian said. She didn't respond. "Besides, I'm a nerd. We have a much better sense of fashion than dweebs."

Claire smiled slightly.

"That's better," Brian said.

Claire looked down at her hands. "What are you doing here, Brian?" she asked.

"You just left us hanging, you know? You both did. Just like that, no explanation."

Claire shrugged, "I guess we just weren't meant to be."

"I don't believe that," he replied. "You loved each other, I could tell." They sat in silence for a minute or two, until Brian tried again, "I know something's wrong. You can trust me. Just tell me what it is."

Claire finally looked up at him, but she had a strange look on her face. "I really want to tell you about it, but I shouldn't. I don't know what he would do if he found out we were talking."

"Claire, I know John has temper, but I don't think he'd ever hurt you."

"No, not John," Claire started to correct him, but stopped when she saw Parker walk out of the cafeteria door. He was looking around the courtyard for her. "Oh no," she said as she hurriedly stood up. "Brian, you have to get out of here!"

Brian was puzzled and slightly hurt, but got up anyway.

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "For everything. Please don't come and find me again." Claire turned around to find Parker was rapidly on his way over.

"Is this dweeb bothering you, Claire?" he asked as he approached the pair.

"No, he was just asking me if I wanted to donate to the Physics Club," she covered.

"Uh, that's right," Brian said, picking up on her reluctance to be seen with him in public. "We're having this event where people sponsor our rockets and then pay us 10 cents for every foot that they fly. It's for the Einstein Foundation. You know, charity? But I can see that neither of you are interested, so I'll go. Thanks for your time," he said and quickly walked away, still feeling that something was very wrong.

Once Brian was out of earshot, Parker turned Claire to face him. "What the hell were you thinking? I had to look all over for you."

"I just stepped outside to get some air," she said flatly.

"Well, next time let me know where you're going," he said. "I was worried."

xxx

The more Brian thought about the conversation with Claire, the more it bothered him. It hadn't cleared anything up, only raised more questions. He felt like Claire was definitely hiding something. By Wednesday, he had decided that if he was going to help her, he would have to confront John.

He walked around to the back parking lot that morning and watched John stand around and smoke with a couple of his friends. He waited by the door until they were on their way back to the building. "Bender!" he nervously called out as they walked past him. All three of the guys stopped and looked at him.

"Shit," John swore under his breath.

"Aw, isn't that cute? He's trying to make friends with the big boys," Pete said.

"I'll take care of this," John said, "Go on without me."

"Do you need help?" Spezz asked. "I can search his pockets while you hold him down."

"No, it's fine, just go." John waited until his friends were out of earshot before laying into Brian. "What the fuck are you doing?" he asked, "The flare gun didn't work, so you decided to come up to me in front of my friends and get killed that way?"

"I'm taking a calculated risk," Brian explained. "I wanted to talk to you about Claire."

"I have better things to do with my time than to talk about that bitch," John replied.

"Then could you at least tell me what you did to her? She's all messed up now."

"What I did to her? I dumped her rich ass, that's what. Maybe you should ask Queenie what _she_ did to _me_." He paused and lit another cigarette. "What do you mean she's messed up?" he asked as nonchalantly as possible.

"She's been all distant and withdrawn since you two broke it off. And when I asked her what was wrong, she wouldn't tell me because she was too afraid to talk to me. She said she was scared of 'what he would do'. I thought she was talking about you, but she said it was someone else."

John thought it over and let his cigarette burn down with out taking a drag. He wondered if… no. Claire wasn't his concern anymore. He flicked the ash off the end of the cigarette. "I don't even know why I'm listening to this. She hates me, I hate her, end of story. She has new a boyfriend now. I'm sure he can sort her problems out for her. You should go talk to him."

"But…" Brian trailed off, realizing that it was pointless to keep questioning John. It was obvious that he wasn't going to give up any more information, so Brian left him alone with his cigarette. As he walked back into school, he wondered if maybe Andy was right and that he should just let the whole thing go.

xxx

Claire was in her room on Thursday afternoon, watching TV. She had finished her homework and was supposed to be getting ready to go to a movie with Parker, but she was finding it hard to be motivated for her date. Lately, she had noticed that her room seemed a lot bigger and much emptier without the prospect of company. It made her feel really alone.

The phone rang, interrupting her thoughts. She hoped it would be Parker canceling. No such luck, it was Rick.

"I haven't heard from you in a while, how's the poser?" he asked.

"He's fine," she answered.

"No problems with his arm or anything else?"

"No."

"That's funny because I heard something from Mom earlier. She said you had a boyfriend. I was totally surprised because I didn't think she knew, but then she said it was Parker Worthington, which I thought was weird because I remember him being a stuck up brat who used to pull your hair."

"I had forgotten about that," Claire said.

"So, is it true?"

"Yeah."

"What happened to John?"

Hearing his name made Claire feel like a thousand daggers had been stabbed in her heart. "We came to an understanding."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning we never should have been together in the first place."

"That's too bad. I really liked him. I thought he was good for you."

Claire was reminded of her conversation with Carrie. "Why does everybody keep saying that?" she wondered.

"Maybe because it's true?"

"Hardly."

"What about Brian?"

"What about him?"

"Do you still talk to him?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I just don't!" Claire was getting tired of people questioning her actions. "Why can't everyone just leave me alone?!"

Rick was still concerned. "You'd tell me if something was wrong, right?" he asked, but she didn't answer. "Claire?" he tried again.

"I miss him," she admitted quietly.

"Maybe you should talk to him."

"No, it wouldn't help," she said sadly. "He hates me."

"Why?"

"I don't know, because I have money? Who knows what goes on inside of that stupid head of his?" Claire thought back to all the cruel things John had said. "He definitely doesn't give a shit about me," she told Rick. "I don't think he ever did."

"Okay, say that's true, why are you with Parker?"

"Because he's everything John wasn't."

"Yeah, but—"

She cut him off, "I have to go. Parker will be here soon."

"Claire—"

"I'll be fine. Bye," she said as she hung up on him. She walked over to her dresser and checked herself out in the mirror. As she brushed her hair, she couldn't help but think that she had disappointed Rick by going back to her old habits. Deep down she regretted it, but she also knew it was the way it had to be. It was what was expected of someone like her. She put the finishing touches on her make-up and went downstairs.

Mrs. Standish had just come home and was about to take off her coat, when she heard footsteps. She turned around to find her daughter had entered the foyer. "Claire. I'm afraid you'll have to eat dinner by yourself tonight. There's a meeting at the country club that your father insists we have to attend since he's on the Board of Trustees. Frankly, I don't think it's s big deal, but you know how he is about these things." She noticed that Claire was carrying her purse. "Are you headed out?"

Claire nodded, "Parker's supposed to pick me up in a few minutes."

Mrs. Standish straightened Claire's collar and said, "I'm so glad you decided to see him again, and not just because your father hates the Worthington's. Parker's much better for you than that Fender boy."

Claire's head snapped to attention at the mention of John. "What?"

"Did you really think I didn't know about your delinquent boyfriend?"

Claire's mouth gaped, "But how?"

"One of your friends brought him to my attention because she was concerned for you. And it's a good thing she did. Imagine, my daughter, dating a criminal."

"He's not a criminal!" How ever much John had hurt her, Claire wasn't going to let her mother believe lies about him.

"Well, it doesn't matter anyway, now does it?" Mrs. Standish said sweetly as she turned her toward the door. "You've got yourself a nice respectable boyfriend. Now, go have fun." She nudged a still stunned Claire out the door before she could argue any further.

xxx

After the movie, Parker invited Claire back to his house because his parents hadn't seen her since they had moved back to Shermer. Claire reluctantly agreed. She really wanted to get home as soon as she could, but Parker's house wasn't far from hers and she supposed it was only polite to say hello to Mr. and Mrs. Worthington. She didn't want it to get back to her mother that she had been rude.

When they arrived back at the Worthington's house, they found that Parker's parents had also gone to the meeting at the country club and wouldn't be back for another half-hour or so. Parker offered to show Claire around in the meantime.

Their house was nearly as big as Claire's, but Parker skipped most of the rooms. He ended his tour by showing off his room. His prized possession was an authentic suit of armor that was displayed in the corner. It creeped Claire out for some reason. "It's nice," she told him.

"Thanks. Hey, do you want to listen to a record?" he asked as he flipped through his extensive collection.

"Sure."

"Sit down, make your self comfortable," he motioned to the bed.

Claire sat on the edge of his bed and tried to relax. Parker always seemed to make her nervous.

"Did you enjoy the movie? I still can't believe I let you talk me into seeing that chick-flick over the new Stephen King movie."

Claire laughed, ridding herself of some of the nervousness. "It wasn't _that_ bad. I liked it," she said. "I guess I could kind of identify with Samantha."

"Oh, c'mon, your parents couldn't have possibly forgotten your sixteenth birthday."

Claire thought back to the car fiasco. "It would've been nice if they had," she commented.

Parker dropped the needle down on the record and joined Claire on the bed "You look very pretty tonight," he said.

"Thank you." Claire was beginning to feel uneasy again.

"Thank you." Claire was beginning to feel uneasy again. It didn't help when he leaned in and started kissing her. Claire returned his kisses because it what she was supposed to do. She tried desperately to enjoy herself, reminding herself that he was her boyfriend. Then his hands moved under her shirt.

Claire pulled back immediately. "What are you doing?!" she exclaimed.

The look on Parker's face suddenly turned dark. "I thought it would be obvious even to an airhead like you. It's called foreplay. Or did Bender skip that part with you?"

"Shut up!" She pushed shoved his hands away and got off the bed. "You don't know anything about him!"

Parker stood up and moved across the room toward her. "I know enough to know that he dumped you," he said, and then an understanding look crept across his face. "Oh... I get it now. You didn't put out for him did you? God, I never thought you were frigid. I'm going to have fun with this."

"I'm leaving," Claire said. She wasn't prepared for what came next. Parker's backhand hit her so hard that she stumbled and had to steady herself against a chest of drawers to keep from falling. She was so shocked that at first she wasn't sure what had happened.

Parker paced back and forth and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. It was several moments before he said anything. "Let's get one thing straight," he finally said, "You're my girlfriend and you listen to what I say. And you had better not push me away again, got it?"

Claire nodded. Her cheek was burning, but she wasn't about to let him see her cry.

"If you keep doing those sort of things, I'm going to think you don't like me," Parker said. He stopped pacing and looked at Claire. "Go home. We obviously aren't going to be doing anything fun tonight."

As Claire started toward the door, Parker called out one last warning, "Remember, Claire, that I have the means to make life very difficult for you. And for your friends."

xxx

Claire was glad when school was over on Friday afternoon. She left immediately after her last class, not bothering to go to her locker or say goodbye to her friends. She had managed to get out of having Parker taking her home through a series of lies and she wanted to get out of there in case he found out the truth. It felt like she was being smothered, with Parker trying to control everything she did. Add to that, the incident last night and she didn't really want be alone with him.

That morning when she had woken up, an angry purple bruise had appeared on her cheek. She had done the only thing she could do and carefully concealed it under layers of expertly applied make-up. When she was done, the bruise had magically disappeared. Like it had never happened. She almost believed it too.

It was raining as she walked home. By the time she reached the football field, her hair clung to her face and her clothes were soaked through. It didn't really bother her, it kind of suited her mood.

John was hanging out under the bleachers, waiting for the rain to stop, or at least die down, when he saw Claire walking toward him. She was drenched and her shoes were sinking into the mud with every step. _Oh, how the mighty have fallen_, he thought.

Deciding to have a little fun, he stepped out from under the bleachers to block her way. "What's the matter, Your Highness? Does your driver have the day off?" he taunted.

Claire didn't react to his comment. "Something like that," she muttered, pushing her way past him. John moved in front of her again. She sighed, but wouldn't look at him. "What do you want?"

"Nothing, I'm just bored. Insulting you is how I get off."

Claire wiped the wet hair off her face and finally looked him in the eyes, staring him down coldly. "You're pathetic. I can't believe I actually kissed you."

A scathing response was on the tip of John's tongue when he caught a glimpse of something on Claire's face that threw him off his game. "What the fuck is that?" he asked, trying to get a better look.

Claire realized that her makeup must be coming off and looked away. "What?"

John grabbed her chin and turned her head. A giant bruise marred her cheek. "That," he said.

Claire struggled out of his grip and shoved his hand away. "It's nothing. I got hit with a volleyball in gym," she said smugly.

"Oh Sweets, you are going to have to do better than that, you're talking to _me_, remember? Who did it?" But Claire was defiantly silent. "Tell me and I'll—"

"You'll what? Go congratulate him on a job well done?" she snipped.

"Yes, because I'm _that_ much of an asshole," he said sarcastically.

"Careful, I might get the wrong impression and think you actually care about what happens to me."

"I do." The words slipped out before John could stop them. He mentally slapped himself.

Claire didn't believe him. "Then why did you dump me?" she asked.

"So you wouldn't dump me first!"

"I wasn't going to dump you!"

"I saw you with that rich asshole at the arcade! He had his arm around you and you two looked pretty friendly. What was I supposed to think? You obviously wanted to be with a guy who could take you out more than a guy who couldn't even afford breakfast."

"No!" she shook her head violently. Claire was beginning to understand what had happened. "It was never like that! My mom set us up and I had to go on this stupid 'non-date' with him, but she was really hoping I'd like him better than you."

"Well, apparently it worked 'cuz you're with him now!"

"Because you said you didn't even want to be near me! You said you just used me to win a bet! What was _I_ supposed to think?"

"That I lied? Believe me it would've taken a lot more than fifty bucks to get me to stay with you if I didn't want to."

Claire could only stare at John while her mind struggled to work out the meaning behind what he had just said. He actually wanted to be with her. This revelation filled her with so much joy, that for a second she almost smiled. But then she remembered her current situation, and Parker's warning echoed in her mind. He had picked a fight with John before, what would he do the next time?

Claire took a deep, calming breath and tried to ignore the way that every fiber of her being was screaming at her make things right with John. She stared at the ground and as she quietly spoke her decision, she could feel her heart break. "Nothing's changed," she told him. "Like you said, I'm with Parker now. I chose to go back to my life before detention." She paused and then added, "Whatever happens as a result of that is on me." She started to walk away, not wanting to see the look on his face.

"Wait," John grabbed for her arm to stop her from leaving. He was in no way convinced that this is what she actually wanted. Claire recoiled immediately at his touch and she looked like she was on the verge of tears. It made John want to wrap his arms around her and shelter her from the rain and all the bad things in the world.

"Just...leave me alone, okay?"

John nodded and backed away, letting her pass. He thought back to his fight with Parker and remembered how hard he punched. There was little doubt in his mind that that was who responsible for Claire's pain. He watched her retreat further into the distance and wondered if he had made the right decision by letting her go.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Monday, May 21**__**st**__**, 1984**_

John moved swiftly through the school hallways on Monday morning with a purpose. He had spent all weekend thinking about Claire, and now he was going to do something. He saw his target walking to class with a friend and snuck up behind him. He put his arm around his shoulders and steered him away, simply saying, "With me."

"Brian?" his friend called after him.

"I, uh, have to help him with the answers to his math homework," Brian answered back. His friend seemed to accept his answer, but didn't look any less worried. Brian walked briskly to keep up with John, so intrigued by his actions that he didn't even care that class was starting.

When they reached a stairwell, John looked around to make sure it was empty before blurting out, "That son of a bitch yuppie asshole jerk hit Claire."

Brian stared blankly at John, trying to figure out who he was talking about. "Do you mean Parker Worthington? Are you sure?"

"Yeah, pretty sure."

"Whoa," Brian said as he processed the information. "I knew something was wrong, but… wow. We have to tell someone."

"Who?"

"Mr. Vernon? No, that's a bad idea. Maybe her parents? Or her brother?" Brian suggested.

"Wonderful idea. The piece of trash that her family disapproves of is going to lecture them on how evil the perfect boyfriend they selected for their daughter is. Yeah, that'll go over real well."

"Well, we have to do _something_."

"I don't even know why I care," John said, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"Because you still have feelings for her," Brian pointed out.

"I don't know how to help her," John said. "I can't even fucking help myself half the time." He kicked the wall as he vented his frustration, "Everyone wants me to fucking take care of them. 'Johnny, get me off the floor. Johnny, help me to bed'. Like I fucking know what I'm doing. No one ever took care of me."

Brian sensed there were larger issues behind John's uncharacteristically intimate outburst, but let it go, instead reminding him quietly, "Claire did."

Brian's simple statement made John think of Claire's gentle touch, and he calmed immediately. "Yeah," he agreed as he sunk down on the nearby stairs, "She did."

"And she always knew how to say the right thing, so you never felt bad that she helped you. You never felt like—"

"She pitied you," John finished for him.

"Exactly."

John sat with his head down and fingers threaded through his hair. After thinking through things for several moments, he looked up and shook his head, "No, I blew it. She doesn't want anything to do with me. Not after what I said to her."

"Try talking to her again," Brian suggested. "Let her know that you're there if she needs you. It'd be a start. It's probably going to take awhile for her to trust you again."

xxx

After school on Tuesday, John walked down the empty hallway on his way out for the day. He had stayed behind in his automotive class because they were working on a car and weren't finished with the repairs when the final bell rang. John had volunteered to stay and help the teacher finish. It wasn't like he had anywhere important to be.

As he passed by the activities hall, he saw Claire standing in the doorway. She turned when she heard his footsteps. The look on her face told him that he was not who she was expecting. John was going to keep walking past her, but then thought better of it and stopped. "You doing okay?" he asked.

Claire's first instinct was to brush John off, but she dropped her defenses instead and answered, "Yeah, I'm okay."

They stared at each other for a long, tense moment. John tried to think of something else to say to her, but nothing seemed right. "Be careful," he finally told her. She nodded at him and he walked away.

He was almost to the front door of the school when he remembered that he needed to go to his locker first. Running into Claire had made him completely forget. As he walked back toward the activities hall, he could hear shouting coming from within. He slowed down and looked through the window in the door. It looked like Claire was having heated words with Parker. John listened closely, catching snippets of their argument.

"Nothing! It was nothing, okay?" Claire was trying her hardest to diffuse the situation, but it wasn't working.

"How do I know that? How do I know you weren't with him all this time?" Parker accused.

"I was at the prom committee meeting. You can ask Denise, or Jennifer, or any of the four other girls that were here!" Claire shouted.

"Then why were you two talking?"

"I just told you, it was nothing. If you don't believe me, then I don't know what to tell you. You're always so paranoid. I can't take it," Claire said wearily. "I don't want to have to deal with it anymore. I think we should break up." Parker had finally pushed her to her breaking point. She no longer cared about the consequences, she just wanted to be done with him.

Parker adopted a cheery tone, "You know what? I don't care that you were talking to Bender. There's obviously nothing to worry about. I'm totally over it."

"Parker? Did you even listen to what I said?"

Parker made no indication of hearing her. "I can't believe I actually got upset over someone like that," he said. "C'mon, let's go."

Claire stood where she was. "No. I'm going home alone."

Parker heard her that time. "You ungrateful bitch! I waited for an hour and a half for you and now you're blowing me off?"

"I told you, it's over. I can't stand the way you're always smothering me. I don't want to see you again, ever."

John heard Claire's last statement and was trying to figure out what that meant for his relationship with her, when Parker responded with a hard slap to Claire's face. John watched Claire gingerly touch her lip and then look at her fingertips.

The sight of Claire's blood made John react immediately. He swung the door open and walked toward the couple, loudly clapping his hands in a slow, dramatic fashion. "Bravo! That was very entertaining," he said. The two of them turned, unaware that they had had an audience. Claire looked somewhat relieved at the sight of John, but Parker looked like a deer caught in headlights.

John smiled at his reaction and told Parker smugly, "If you were trying to prove you're better than me, you failed, asshole. I never hit Claire. I have morals."

Parker was on him in an instant. They wrestled, grabbing and swinging at each other, until they fell to the ground. They continued to struggle on the floor as Claire watched helplessly. Parker soon gained the upper hand and pinned John beneath him. "I fucking hate people like you!" he yelled, grabbing John's collar and slamming his head against the floor.

"Stop!" Claire shouted frantically, "Parker, stop it!" But he just moved his hands to around John's throat, choking him. Claire dropped to her knees and tried to pry his grip loose, but he was too strong. "Stop! You're going to kill him!" Her words finally registered with Parker and he released John and stood up. John inhaled sharply and started coughing.

Parker glanced down at the pair and said with disgust, "Fine. You know, I only dated you because I thought you'd be easy. Everyone said you had slept with this waste of space. But you're really not worth the effort." Claire shot him the finger and Parker laughed. "I should've known that he already corrupted you," he said, straightening his shirt. "Enjoy your life as a reject," he called as he walked away.

John sat up when Parker left and looked at Claire, who was inches away. "Did I corrupt you?" he asked.

"Apparently," she said, finding it hard to resist touching him when he was so close. "Are you going to be alright?" she asked.

John rubbed his fingers over his throat, trying to sooth the soreness. "Yeah," he said, "Just let me sit here for a minute and catch my breath."

"Why'd you provoke him like that?" she asked. "You know you're no good at fighting."

"I wasn't trying to be a hero," he replied. "I don't know what happened." He only knew that he wanted Parker to leave Claire alone.

"Thank you, though," Claire said. "I guess he finally got the message that we're through."

"So, now that you're single again, how does this work? Do we get to pick up where we left off?" John asked optimistically.

Claire shifted her gaze away. "I don't think it works like that," she said. "You didn't trust me. I don't know if I can get over that so easily."

"I know I fucked up. I just—I always figured you'd leave me sooner or later. I couldn't take you out to fancy places or buy you stuff. I thought you deserved someone who could."

"I wish you would understand that I never cared about that," she said. "I have all the money I could ever want, but I don't have anyone else who's like you. You're the opposite of every person I'd ever known until that Saturday in March. Somehow you charmed your way into my heart and opened my eyes to a lot of things. I wasn't about to give that up."

"Claire, I…" John started to tell her how he felt, but trailed off, scared of what would come out of his mouth if he didn't stop.

Claire eyes snapped back to John's. He never called her just Claire. She studied his face closely. He somehow seemed so different in that moment. She felt like she was seeing into his soul. It was the most unguarded he had ever been with her. Her hand unconsciously rose a few inches off her lap, ready to reach out for him and caress his cheek, but she grasped it with her other hand. "I'm going to need some time to sort things out," she finally said.

xxx

Claire had walked home from school, leaving John sitting on the floor. He had watched her leave, the look on his face unreadable. He didn't try to stop her that time. He left her alone just like she had asked. Claire couldn't understand why that made her feel worse and not better.

When she finally got home, Claire realized that it was not a place she wanted to be. She thought about having to explain her swollen lip and the break-up with Parker to her mother and it filled her with a sense of dread. She knew that she would have to do it eventually, but it was just not something she wanted to deal with today. Moving quickly, she grabbed some things from her room and fled from her house.

She ended up driving around Shermer for the better part of an hour, trying to decide where she should go. Eventually, she found herself standing outside the door of her brother's apartment with her overnight bag. She knocked with her free hand. The door opened.

"I didn't want go home," Claire said, pushing her way past a surprised Rick. She dropped her bag, sank down onto the couch, and drew a pillow up onto her lap.

"Hi, Claire. No, I'm not busy. Would you like to come in? Have a seat," Rick said theatrically to no one as he closed the door. He expected some kind of retort from Claire, but got none. She was in some kind of a daze. He noticed her lip was swollen and scabbed over. "Is something wrong?" he tried.

Claire hugged the pillow. "I don't know. It was, but it might not be anymore. I'm not sure."

"Ooookay." Rick sat down beside her. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

"John started a fight with Parker. It was a whole big mess all because I wanted to break up with him."

"Break up with John?" he tried to follow.

"No, with Parker. I told him it was over and he hit me. That's how I got this," Claire touched her lip. "And then for some reason John was there and the two of them fought. I thought Parker was going to kill him." She paused, remembering what happened after. "He wants to get back together."

"Parker?" Rick asked.

Claire gave him a weird look. "John."

"I thought he hated you or something?"

"He did, but it was all Mom's fault. She somehow found out about John and made me go out with Parker. Then John saw us together, jumped to conclusions, and dumped me." She hid her head in the pillow. "Augh! What am I going to do?" her muffled voice asked.

"Do you want to get back together with John?"

She unburied her head. "Yes. I have for a while now."

"So, what's stopping you then?"

"I don't know. I guess I still don't how he feels about me. Maybe he only misses my stuff and driving my car."

"You let him drive your car?" That was news to Rick.

"I trusted him, you know? But he didn't even trust me enough to find out what was going on at the arcade. Instead he thought I was cheating on him."

"He probably had a good reason for being insecure," Rick commented.

"Yeah, he thought I was going to leave him when someone better came along. He's such an idiot. Who did he think I was going to find that's better than him?"

Rick had to stop himself from laughing at his sister's ignorance. "Riiight, because no one could ever top that poser on the charming scale."

Claire threw the pillow at him. "I'm serious."

Rick smiled at her. "I know. Look, I told you before that I actually liked John. I thought he brought out a lot of good qualities in you. I just think you're not looking at things from his perspective. He probably felt like he was in way over his head with someone like you."

"So, you think I should get back together with him then?"

"I think that's for you to decide, not me," Rick said. Claire frowned at him. He knew she wasn't happy with his answer, but he couldn't make her mind up for her. He changed the subject, hoping to stop her sulking. "So, I suppose you want to spend the night?"

"Is it okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's fine. Kate's coming over later to hang out, but she won't mind. She hasn't seen you in awhile, you two can catch up."

"Thanks, I really appreciate it."

"Just remember this when it comes time to buy me a birthday present," he said. Claire laughed.

xxx

John walked into band practice on Tuesday night with his guitar slung over his shoulder and a notebook page in his hand. He slapped the paper down on the table in front of Eric, who looked up from writing in his own notebook.

"Thank fucking God," Eric said in a sigh of relief as he glanced at the piece of paper.

"What is it?" Pete asked.

"Gentlemen, we have lyrics," was Eric's reply.

"It's about fucking time," Robbie said, "We've only got four days until the gig."

Eric read through John's messy handwriting and exclaimed, "Jesus! You wrote about a girl! You turned it into a fucking power ballad after all!" John looked uneasy, so Eric reassured him, "Don't worry, I like it. I can definitely make these lyrics fit. You don't mind if I add a few things, though, do you?"

"Nah, whatever makes it work," John replied.

"Excellent. So, what's her name?"

"Who's name?" John asked.

"The girl you were obviously pining over when you wrote this," Eric waved the piece of paper in front of him.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"It's Claire," Pete supplied. John shot him a look of death.

"I knew it," Eric said triumphantly. "Alright, let's play this through a couple of times so I can get a feel for these." He picked up his guitar and the swore, "Fuck. You know we're going to lose our street cred as a hard core metal band, right?"

"But the ladies will love it," Robbie said.

Eric grinned. "And really, isn't that all that matters?"

John just shook his head as he plugged in his guitar. He hadn't set out to write a song about Claire, it had just happened. When he got home from his encounter with her that afternoon, he had started practicing the song and it made him think back to the first time he had heard it. It was on the Sunday after his detention with her, when all he could think about was Claire and how unsure he was about what would happen on Monday.

He had felt a rush of inspiration when he remembered that pure, raw emotion that came from kissing Claire the first time, and how it had felt when she made him hers by giving him the earring. It made him realize how much he didn't want to lose her. The result was that he had put pen to paper. It didn't matter that she would probably never hear the song, all that mattered was that it served as a reminder to him to win her back.

xxx

Claire's friends immediately swarmed her when she walked into school on Wednesday morning. "Oh my God," Denise said, "We've been trying to contact you since yesterday!"

"Everyone heard about what happened and they were so worried," Ashley said. "We tried to call you, but you didn't answer your phone. I wasn't sure how much your parents knew, so we didn't want to ask them how you were."

"I was at my brother's last night," Claire said, confused as to what was going on.

"See? I told you she wasn't in the hospital," Ashley said to Denise.

"It is true what they're saying?" Carrie asked. "Did Bender really do that?" she pointed to Claire's lip.

Claire was puzzled. "Who's saying that? No, it was Parker."

"Right, we heard that Parker saved you," Ashley said.

"What a great guy," Denise commented.

"No, he's really not," Claire tried to explain.

"Your face doesn't look as screwed up as I thought it would," Ashley said.

"Wait, what? Would somebody please tell me what's going on?" Claire pleaded.

"Someone's been spreading rumors that Bender beat you up and that Parker had to stop him," Carrie told Claire.

A commotion coming from down the hall caught Claire's attention before she could respond. Mr. Vernon had John by the upper arm and was leading him down the hall. "What the hell did I do, Dick? Class hasn't even fucking started yet. At least wait until I fall asleep before you drag me to your office," he protested loudly.

Across the hall, Parker was watching the scene with interest. He turned when the commotion died down and saw Claire. He just gave her a wink as he walked down the hall toward his class, leaving Claire with the sinking feeling that he had just exacted his revenge.

"If there's any justice, they'll put him away for real this time," Ashley commented.

"But he didn't do anything," Claire insisted. If her friends believed the rumors so easily, she knew that Mr. Vernon would be more than happy to take them at face value as well. There was no telling what he would do.

Claire left her confused friends and hurried toward Mr. Vernon's office, hoping that she wasn't too late. She found the door open and peeked in. John was seated and Mr. Vernon was standing over him with the phone in his hand and broad smile on his face.

"I heard about the incident yesterday," she heard him say. "I can't say that I'm surprised to hear that you hit a girl; a chickenshit like you doesn't have any standards. I finally have enough to expel you. One phone call to the superintendent, that's all I have to make and you'll be working at the gas station until you're sixty. I want you to watch this."

Claire couldn't take it anymore and burst into the office. "Mr. Vernon, wait!"

Mr. Vernon paused in mid-dial and looked over at her, "Miss Standish, I promise you, this is the last you will see of John Bender. If you'll just wait outside until I'm done—"

"No! Parker lied about what happened."

Mr. Vernon's face fell. "What did you just say?" he asked, hanging up the phone.

"Parker lied, John didn't hit me," Claire explained.

"Yes, he did, and you're going to tell everyone what he did," Mr. Vernon said as he moved toward her.

Claire could tell that he was quickly losing his patience, but she didn't back down. She was desperate to make him understand. "No! If you want to go after someone, you should go after Parker. He's the one that hit me. John was just trying to help."

"See, Rich? I'm really a nice guy," John said.

"I don't believe it for a second," Mr. Vernon spat. "You're a zero, Bender, and that's exactly what you'll amount to in life. Oh, you think you've got everyone around you fooled, but not me. I can see right through you." He turned and addressed Claire again, "Listen to me carefully, Miss Standish, because I am going to give you the best piece of advice you'll ever hear. Stay away from John Bender. No matter how much he says he loves you, it's a lie. He's incapable of love. There are only two things that you can give him that he's interested in, money and sex."

To her horror, Claire realized that her fist was hurtling toward Mr. Vernon's face at an alarming speed. It made contact with him squarely in the eye, and he cried out in surprise. Claire dropped her hand quickly, hoping no one would realize what had just happened. John jumped to his feet and was by her side immediately, ready to stop any further action from her.

The office was quiet for several seconds as Mr. Vernon just looked back and forth between John and Claire with an ever-increasing scowl on his face. When he finally spoke, his voice trembled with anger, "If either of you mention this to anyone, I swear I'll expel you both! Now, get out!"

John led a stunned Claire out into the empty hall. Her eyes were still wide with shock. "I can't believe I did that," she whispered.

"Maybe I did corrupt you," he mused.

xxx

Richard Vernon sank down in his desk chair, feeling utterly defeated. He had been backed into a corner. There was no way, with her family's influence, that he was going to be able to punish Miss Standish for her actions. If he even tried, he knew that all of his dirty laundry would be aired for the public to see. He was sure that the school board would disapprove of him locking a student in his storage closet and that the PTA would probably call for his resignation.

He wouldn't have even minded so much, if he still had Bender to harass, but he wasn't even sure he had that. He had spent the past three and a half years convincing Bender that he was worthless, and that girl ruined it all. There was somebody that actually cared about that prick now, and that turned him from nothing into something. He would no longer have the same kind of power over Bender that he had once had.

xxx

Claire was glad when Saturday night arrived. It had been a long week. Between clearing up the mess of what had really happened with Parker, and worrying that Mr. Vernon would do something to her, she was mentally exhausted. That was why, when Carrie asked her again if she wanted to go out for a night of fun, Claire had said yes.

The Smoke & Mirrors Club was crowded and smoky, but Claire was actually enjoying herself in spite of it. The music had been decent so far and she was able to get her mind off of the situation with John, at least for a few hours. During the break between bands, Greg, Carrie's boyfriend, had gone to get them drinks, so Claire and Carrie talked as they waited. Carrie was in the middle of telling Claire about her plans for the summer, when all of a sudden she stopped.

"Is something wrong?" Claire asked.

"No, the opposite. Your ex boy-toy's here," Carrie said.

"What? Where?" Claire asked, looking around the crowd for John.

Carrie pointed. "On stage. That's him, right?"

Claire's heart nearly jumped through her chest. John was indeed on stage, getting ready to play with his band. Carrie whistled loudly. Several people turned to look at them, including John. Claire sheepishly waved at him. John smiled in acknowledgment and then went back to setting up.

His band played a set of heavy music that wasn't really Claire's taste, but the crowd seemed to like it, and eventually she found herself dancing along with them. Even if she hated the music, she would've stayed out on the floor just so that she could watch John play his guitar. She enjoyed seeing the serious, professional side of him.

The lead-singer, who Claire knew was named Eric, introduced the next song. "This next song's a little different from what we usually play," he explained, "But I hope you all like it. It's brand new and we haven't had a lot of time to practice, so don't kill me if I fuck up the lyrics, okay, Bender?" He looked across the stage at John, who flipped him off while grinning. The crowd laughed at their antics.

Claire watched John's demeanor change immediately when they started playing again. He suddenly seemed a lot less confident than he had been earlier. He stared down at his fingers as he played and his hair covered most of his face. Claire wondered if it was because he wasn't used to playing the new song yet.

Eric started signing, "Won't you come see about me? I'll be alone, dancing you know it, baby. Tell me your troubles and doubts, giving me everything inside and out. Love's strange, so real in the dark. Think of the tender things that we were working on. Slow change may pull us apart, when the light gets into your heart. Baby, don't you forget about me."

John looked up from his guitar and found Claire in the audience. He held her gaze while Eric sang the next lines. "Will you stand above me? Look my way, but never love me? Rain keeps falling, rain keeps falling, down, down, down. Will you recognize me, call my name, or walk on by? Rain keeps falling, rain keeps falling down, down, down, down."

The lyrics triggered a rush of memories for Claire. She thought of running into John on the way home in the rain, and of walking past him in the hall and not paying him any mind. She had been so stuck up to look at him, but to not see him. Another memory suddenly appeared, something John had mentioned once about writing lyrics, and she knew instantly that he had written these.

"Don't you forget about me, I'll be alone, dancing you know it, baby. Going to take you apart, I'll put us back together at heart. Baby, don't you forget about me," Eric sang.

Around her, the crowd swayed to the music, but Claire couldn't move. All she could do was stare back at John on stage as the words he had written surrounded her, filling up her head and her heart. She finally understood what his true feelings were.

"As you walk on by, will you call my name? When you walk away? Or will you walk away? Will you walk on by? Come on, call my name. Will you call my name?" As Eric sang the last part, John silently questioned Claire with a subtle raise of his eyebrow.

All of a sudden the song ended and the spell over Claire was broken. The crowd clapped and whistled wildly around her. They were too loud. She couldn't think. She couldn't breath. She had to get out of there.

xxx

John had been surprised to see Claire in the audience before their set began. He had half hoped that she would get tired of their music and leave before the set was over because he knew that the song they were finishing on was the new one. He wasn't sure at first how he felt about her hearing the lyrics he had written with her in mind, but then something about the way Eric sang his words, gave him confidence.

He felt that this was his chance to show Claire how much he wanted to be with her. He found her in the audience and captured her eyes, making sure her focus was solely on him. He watched as the understanding appeared on her face.

But then the song was over and his band mates were celebrating. He looked back and saw Claire pushing her way through the crowd in a hurry, moving further and further from the stage. The boost of confidence that he had gained from the song dissipated. He felt like a fool for opening himself up to her like that, only to be denied once again. He had done all he could, and she still wouldn't accept him.

xxx

On Monday morning, Claire walked down the hall with Ashley on the way to her third period class. As they rounded the corner, she saw John and Pete talking by a row of lockers. Claire and Ashley rapidly approached their location. John happened to look up and saw her coming his way. She watched as he motioned to Pete for them to leave. This was her chance to make things right.

"John!" she shouted. He stopped and looked back at her, confusion evident on his face.

"Claire," Ashley whispered beside her, "What are you doing?"

Claire ignored her and looked only at John as she walked closer to him.

"What do you want, Princess?" John asked. He had his arms crossed over his chest.

"I figured I had two choices," she said, "Call your name or walk on by you."

"So, you were listening."

"It was kind of hard not to. I've never had a song written about me before."

John smirked. "Who said it was about you?" he teased. Claire returned his smirk with a huge grin.

Ashley watched the couple in complete bewilderment. "Could somebody please explain to me what's happening?" she demanded. Neither John nor Claire made any indication that they heard her.

Pete pulled Ashley aside. "I think we had better leave them alone for awhile," he said.

"I don't care what you—oh God!" Ashley groaned, shielding her eyes. Claire and John were in the middle of a kiss so passionate that it made Ashley go weak in the knees just by looking at it. She reluctantly let Pete lead her away down the hall.

Claire broke the kiss and rested her head on John's chest, pulling his jacket up around her. John looked down at her and laughed at her sudden shyness.

"Is everyone looking at me?" she asked from under his jacket.

"Yeah," he replied, "You'd better think about staying in there until you graduate."

Claire chanced a quick look at the hallway. No one was watching at them.

* * *

A/N: Two quick things. Firstly, this isn't the end… yet. Secondly, for what it's worth, I have always I envisioned the "Don't You (Forget About Me)" that John's band plays to be less like the Simple Minds version and more of a rock version like the Yellowcard cover. 


	10. Chapter 10

_**Friday, June 1**__**st**__**, 1984**_

John made his way toward Claire's locker at the end of school on Friday. It had only been four days since they had gotten back together, but it almost seemed like they had never been apart. The only difference from before being how comfortable they both now felt with their relationship. Neither one of them felt like they had to hide it from people at school anymore and that made things considerably less stressful.

When he arrived at Claire's locker, John found her hurriedly riffling through papers, searching for something. She acknowledged his presence with a smile, but quickly returned her attention back to the papers. John knew that she had a meeting in a few minutes, but she had told him that she wanted to see to him before he left school for the day. John had obliged, hoping they were going to sneak in a quick make-out session, but it didn't look like that was going to be the case.

"I can't find the order form for the balloons," she explained to him as she thumbed through the contents of a purple folder. "I'm supposed to call the company this afternoon, but I can't find it."

Right, John thought, the prom was coming up in a couple of weeks. Of course Claire's head would be filled with nothing else. He anxiously wondered if that was the reason that she wanted to see him. She hadn't asked him to go with her yet, but he figured it was only a matter of time. It was like a bomb waiting to go off. And Claire was definitely going to explode when he told her that he was absolutely, positively, NOT going to the prom.

Claire was oblivious to John's inner turmoil. She continued to search through her locker while rambling on about how busy she was going to be that weekend. "Tomorrow I'm going shopping for my dress," she told him. "Can you believe I've waited this long? I guess I didn't want to think about it back when I was with—well, you know. Anyway, I invited Allison, just like I said I would. Hopefully that'll put me back in her good graces."

John knew that any minute now she would turn to him with a dreamy look in her eyes and ask him. He wasn't going to be able to avoid it for much longer. Claire would probably yell at him, or worse, cry, but there was no way in hell that he was going to dress up in some monkey suit and parade around on a dance floor in front of the whole school. He just couldn't do it.

"So, I just wanted you to know that I'm not going to be around much this weekend if you were planning to stop by," Claire told him. "Ah! Here it is!" She held up a yellow piece of paper triumphantly.

John watched Claire tuck the paper into her purse and return her locker to the state of order it had been in before. He silently wished for a cigarette, but knew didn't have time to go smoke. It was now or never. "About the prom… There's something you should know." He tried to act cool and casual as he told her, "I don't do proms, I only do prom queens."

To John's surprise, Claire laughed at him. "I figured that the prom wasn't your 'thing'," she said. "Don't worry, I won't ask you to go with me if you don't want to."

"Good," he said, feeling strangely disappointed at how easy that was.

Claire closed her locker and turned toward John. "Actually that's kind of why I wanted to talk to you today. Would you mind if I asked Brian to escort me instead?"

"Uh, what?" was all John could utter in response.

"Do you mind if I ask Brian—" she started to repeat.

"No, I heard you," he said. "I'm just having trouble wrapping my head around it."

"It's the perfect compromise," Claire explained. "He's a good friend and you know you can trust him."

John was unconvinced. "I don't know, put a little alcohol in that kid and he might go nuts."

"Where would he get the alcohol?" she asked.

"Doesn't the football team always spike the punch?"

"You've been watching too many movies," Claire said, dismissing his concerns. "So do you mind if I ask him?"

"Whatever," John shrugged, "It's your funeral."

Claire was about to comment on John's indifference when she noticed that Andy was headed down the hall toward them. She hadn't seen him at all that week and was still unsure where she stood with him. She was worried that he was upset with her, but figured out of all of them, he would've understood her return to her old crowd the best. After all, he had admitted to missing his old friends as well. "Andy!" she shouted to get his attention. When he turned to look, she waved. He smiled back. Claire took that as a good sign.

Andy crossed the hall and looked silently back and forth between John and Claire for a moment, like he was studying them. He finally asked, in a voice that mimicked John's, "Are you guys like boyfriend-girlfriend?"

Claire burst out laughing, but John clenched his fist at Andy and said, "Just so you know, I'm totally going to total you the first chance I get."

"Ha! You still couldn't beat me," Andy said, but backed up slightly anyway.

Their friendly exchange made Claire smile. Everything finally felt like it was back to normal. She glanced at the clock in the hall and noticed that it was time for her meeting. "Shit," she swore. "I'm going to be late. Are you coming over tonight?" she asked John.

"I dunno. Probably not. I think Pete wanted to do something tonight."

"Okay, have fun then. It was nice seeing you again, Andy. I'll talk to you later when I have more time. Bye," she said as she left in a hurry for her meeting.

"Bye," Andy replied. He was about to walk away as well when John stopped him.

"Wait, Sporto. I've got a problem, and I swear to god if you tell anyone we had this conversation, I will kill you." He narrowed his eyes and stared Andy down, "And just because I can't beat you in a wrestling match doesn't mean I can't inflict major damage."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Andy said. "I swear on pain of death. Now, what is it?"

John fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable with what he was about to say. "Ineedatux," he mumbled.

"What was that?" Andy asked. He was pretty sure he understood, but he wanted John to say it again.

"I need to rent a fucking tuxedo," John said, with a look of pain on his face, as though it had physically hurt him to speak that sentence.

"Didn't you tell me that you weren't going to the prom?" Andy asked.

"I'm not!" John protested.

But Andy continued, "Remember? You were making fun of me, saying that Allison had me 'whipped', and then you said that you would _never_ in a million years—"

"Just forget I said anything," John snapped.

Andy laughed, happy to be able to get under John's skin for once. "I'm going to rent mine tomorrow. You want me to pick you up and we can go together?"

"No," John said, still hating the idea. Andy questioned him with a look and John relented, "Fine, but don't expect me to get up before noon."

XXX

On Saturday morning, Claire picked up Allison and drove to the mall. She figured that the mall would be a good starting point since it housed a few different stores they could go to, but after an hour of browsing through the racks, nothing was catching Claire's eye. She had a very specific mental image of the dress that she wanted: Cinderella's ball gown. None of the dresses she had seen so far had even come close to the image, and part of her thought that she was being silly. John wasn't even going to get to see the dress at the prom. She had, however, invited him to her house for the party afterwards, and decided that she was going to leave it on until then. After all, she wasn't spending all her time and effort on dressing up for Brian.

Claire looked over at Allison. It didn't look like she was interested in anything either. "Do you see anything that you like?" she asked.

"I just want whatever's most expensive," Allison replied.

Claire raised an eyebrow, "Really?"

Allison pulled something out of her purse and held it up. "My parents let me borrow their credit card. I want to find out what the limit is on it."

"Won't they get upset?" Claire wondered.

Allison smiled mischievously. "I'm hoping they notice the giant bill and get furious, but I doubt it. They let me do pretty much whatever."

Claire brought up something that had been bugging her for a while, "Our parents know each other, right? My dad always talks about a Bill Reynolds, but I never put two and two together until recently."

"I don't seem the type, do I?" Allison asked.

"No, you don't," Claire admitted. "I guess not everyone with rich parents grows up to be a popular snob like I did."

"I used to be a lot like you when I was younger," Allison explained. "My parents always bought me whatever I wanted and a lot of things I didn't even ask for. Instead of attention, I got toys. Eventually, I started rebelling so that my parents would be embarrassed and have to pay attention to me. That wasn't enough, so then I started lying too, but they still did what they always did. Ignore the problem, brush it under the rug, and pretend everything is normal."

Claire nodded in understanding. That was a mentality that she was all too familiar with, unfortunately. It was something her mother excelled in. "Well," she said, trying to lighten the mood, "If you want to run up a bill that will really shock them, we'll have to go to one of the stores downtown. Ooh, and then we can get you designer shoes and a handbag, new make-up, the works. C'mon, let's get out of here."

"Can we stop by the camera store on the way out so I can buy some film?" Allison asked as they left the store.

"Sure," Claire replied. "Are you going to bring your camera to the prom?"

"Yeah. I want to take pictures of everyone all dressed up."

"Could you take a picture of me and John after the prom? If it turns out okay, I can frame it," Claire said. "Is that cheesy or what?"

"Are you really serious about him?" Allison asked bluntly.

Claire was caught off-guard by her question. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, are you going to actually stay together this time or are you just going to dump him for some hot bodyguard this summer?"

"It feels different this time," Claire said. Allison gave her a skeptical look. "It really does," Claire insisted. "I definitely feel like we're both taking this more seriously now. I think we finally understand each other."

"And you really don't mind him not taking you to the prom?" Allison asked as they entered the camera store.

Claire shook her head and smiled. "No, that's just how John is. It would be weird if he actually _wanted_ to go, wouldn't it?"

XXX

John was waiting on his front step on Saturday afternoon, smoking a cigarette. He was beginning to feel like he had made a huge mistake and was thinking about fleeing when Andy pulled up in front of the house. _Damn_. There was no turning back for him now. He dropped his finished cigarette on the ground and got up. He slowly made his way down to the street, feeling like each step was bringing him closer to his execution. John solemnly acknowledged Andy as he climbed into the car.

While stopped at a red light, Andy glanced over to the passenger seat and saw John nervously shaking his leg. "I don't like getting dressed up any more than you do," he said, trying to get John to relax.

John's frown deepened. "Yeah, but unlike you, this goes against my whole image."

"Then why do it?" Andy wondered.

"I've been doing a lot of strange things lately," John replied.

Andy nodded. "Women," he said knowingly.

They rode in silence the rest of the way. When they entered the store, a bubbly young saleswoman immediately greeted them. "Welcome to The Tuxedo Hut! What can I do for you two today?"

"We need tuxes," Andy said.

"Any preferences?" the saleswoman asked.

"No tails or frilly shirts," John said adamantly.

The saleswoman laughed. "Okay, that's a start." She led them over to one side of the store and started to show them a number of different options.

Andy decided on the third ensemble he tried on, but John was proving to be much more of a challenge. He hadn't even tried on anything yet, he just rejected everything based on sight. The saleswoman remained optimistic, however.

"I haven't failed to please a customer yet," she said. "Okay, how about this one?" She held up another ensemble and explained, "It's a little more hip. I did away with the bow-tie and cummerbund and gave you just a classic Windsor tie instead."

John eyed the garments wearily, like they were going to burn him if he touched them. "C'mon, Bender, just try it on," Andy insisted.

John sighed. He couldn't leave without a tux and this one was the least stuffy one he'd seen so far. "Fine." He grabbed the outfit from the woman and stepped into the changing room. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered to himself as he undressed.

Minutes went by as they waited for John to reappear. "Well?" the saleswoman finally asked. "How do you like it?"

"I look like a yuppie," John answered gloomily from behind the door.

"Show us," Andy requested.

"Alright, but if you mention this to anyone—"

"I know, I know. Just get out here," Andy said. John finally came out of the booth and, aside from the scuffed boots, Andy thought he actually looked decent.

"You didn't do your tie!" the saleswoman chided.

"It looks better without it," John said.

"Do you know how to tie it? Here, I'll show you." The saleswoman led him over to the mirrors and showed him. She straightened it and brushed the wrinkles out of one of his sleeves and then stepped back to look at him. She had a broad smile on her face. "You look wonderful! Like a proper gentleman. Your girlfriend is going to absolutely melt when she sees you!"

"If she doesn't laugh me out of the room first," John said. "What do you think, Sporto?" He turned so that Andy could see him better.

"You _do_ look respectable," Andy admitted.

"That's what I was afraid you'd say."

"So, you'll take it?" asked the saleswoman.

"Yeah," John said in a resigned tone. He retreated back into the changing booth and took off the tux, happy to be in his own clothes again.

The saleswoman wrapped up the tuxes in garment bags and brought them to cash register. She went over the rental policy and then said, "Your tux comes to seventy-five dollars with the security deposit. Now, do both of you already have black dress shoes? If not, we rent them as well."

"Seventy-five bucks?!" John exclaimed when he heard the total. "I'm going to have to start selling drugs again to pay for that."

The saleswoman looked at the pair in question. Andy laughed nervously. "He doesn't mean that," he assured her.

"Yes I do," John said wryly.

"Um, yes, well, about the shoes…"

"I've got dress shoes already, thanks," Andy said. "Bender, what about you?"

John pulled out his wallet. He had just enough money from his last gig to pay for the tux. "Yeah, I have black shoes," he answered distractedly.

"She wasn't talking about the pieces of shit that you're wearing," Andy said.

John threw Andy a nasty look and said, "I _do_ own more than one pair of shoes, Sporto."

"Oh, c'mon, admit it," Andy said, "You were thinking about wearing them." John didn't answer, he just scowled at him.

They paid the saleswoman and left the shop. As they were walking back to the car, Andy paused thoughtfully and asked, "I wonder if we should've offered to bring Brian along?"

"Nah, he talks too much," John said. "Besides, it's not like he can mess up getting a tux. He maybe socially inept, but the dork knows better than to show up in a top hat or some shit like that."

"You _hope_. We have to be seen in public with him, you know."

John shrugged. "Maybe you do, but I don't."

Andy stared at John in confusion. "Now you're not going again? Even after what you just went through in there?"

"I never said I _was_ going," John pointed out. "In fact, I told you I wasn't."

"Then why the hell did you just rent a tux?"

"I thought I'd get dressed up and stand outside a fancy restaurant and pretend I was a valet. Easy way to make some money."

Andy shook his head in disbelief. "I don't know how Claire puts up with you," he said.

"Ah, well, you see when she's around, I tend to put my mouth to a much better use," John grinned.

Andy groaned. "I'm sorry I asked."

XXX

Late on Saturday afternoon, Brian was in the car and on his way to the Tuxedo Connection. He had finally talked his mom into taking him, although it appeared that she still wasn't convinced that he actually needed a tuxedo.

"I don't understand what was wrong with borrowing your father's tux," Mrs. Johnson said. "He looked very handsome in it at your uncle's wedding."

"Mom, that was years ago," Brian pointed out.

"The tuxedo never goes out of fashion," she argued.

"It does when it's baby blue and has bell bottoms," he countered.

"Well, I'm just trying to save some money," she said in exasperation.

Brian had told himself that he wasn't going to lose to her, and had readied a response in case she tried to guilt-trip him. "You don't have to. I'll pay for it using my birthday money I got from Grandma."

"No, no, you save that money for college," Mrs. Johnson said. "I suppose we can afford to rent you a tux."

His reverse guilt-trip had worked. Brian allowed himself a small smile at his victory over his mother's strong will. It gave him hope that he could stand up to her in the future when it came to larger issues.

"But, I had better get to take pictures of you and your girlfriend. What did you say her name was again?" she asked.

"Claire, and I told you, she's not my girlfriend. We're just friends."

"Claire, right," Mrs. Johnson said, only half-listening. "Your aunt wants a copy, and we'll have to send one to both grandmas. They're going to be surprised that you're dating already."

"We're not—"

"I suppose either Dad or I will have to drive you to the school?"

"No, Claire has her own car. She'll probably pick me up," Brian said. Claire hadn't actually told him any of the details, but he was pretty sure she would rather drive than have his parents take them to the prom.

"That's right, you did say she was rich. You should hang on to her, Brian," Mrs. Johnson advised him. "If you married a girl like that you could afford tuition anywhere. You could even take your time getting your PhD because she could support you. Then you wouldn't have to be one of those poor, starving grad students you always hear about."

"Mom, I told you—"

"But then again, maybe it would be better not to have any outside distractions while doing your research."

Brian rolled his eyes. He wasn't sure what exactly his mom thought he was going to do in college, but it always sounded important and involved research. He supposed that she thought he would develop the cure for cancer. He imagined the look she would have on her face when he told her what he really wanted to do and smiled to himself again.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Friday, June 15**__**th**__**, 1984**_

John went home with Claire after school on the Friday before the prom. He had band practice later that day and while it would have been closer to walk there from his house, Claire had an Atari now and that tipped the scales in favor of her house. It was fun because lately she had become obsessed with trying to find a game that she could beat him at. When John originally suggested that she buy the Atari, he had no idea that she would turn out to be so competitive.

At first, John had easily been able to defeat her, but now that her skills were improving he was finding it more of a challenge. The score of their current game was tied. They each just needed one last fish to win, and as John raced to reel his in, he heard the telltale noise that Claire's fish had just been eaten. John grinned. His undefeated streak still held.

"NO! Stupid shark!" Claire shouted at the TV in frustration. "Why do you always have to win?" she asked him accusingly.

"Because I'm better than you at video games?"

"But you said you never played Fishing Derby before."

"What can I say? I'm a natural," he said smugly.

Claire glared at him. "I want a rematch."

John set his joystick down, glad for once that he had to leave. "Can't. I've gotta get going."

"Already?" Claire asked, glancing up at the clock.

"Yeah, it's going to take me at least a half-hour to walk over there, and Eric always gives me shit when I'm late."

"Next time I'm totally going to win," she said as she got up and turned off the Atari.

"Suuure you will," he said, gathering up the game cartridges.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

"I'm being serious."

"So am I."

"_John_."

"What?"

"Are you really okay with Brian taking me to the prom?"

John handed her the stack of games. "Is there some reason I shouldn't be?"

"No, I was just curious," she said as she placed the games back on her shelf.

"Secretly hoping that I'd be jealous and decide to take you at the last minute?" he wondered.

"No." Claire looked back at him and narrowed her eyes in question. "_Are_ you jealous?"

"Of Mr. Math Club? I'm not sure that's humanly possible. Besides, he won't try anything with you 'cuz he knows I'll kill him if he does."

"Great," Claire moaned, "Now he's going to be too scared to even dance with me."

"Ask yourself, would that really be so bad?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "That's the whole point of going to a _dance_."

John laughed. "Relax, I didn't even say anything to him," he assured her as he stood up.

"You're still coming over tomorrow night, right?" she asked.

"For the party thing?"

Claire nodded. "Uh-huh. Everyone else is going to be here, so you have to come. Plus, we're going to order pizza, and Mrs. Nakamura really outdid herself baking cookies and buying a ton of junk food for us."

John pretended to think it over. "Well... I guess so. It's not like I have anything better to do," he finally said.

"Good. We should be back here by ten-thirty."

"Do I have to sneak in?"

Claire snorted a laugh. "No, you can ring the doorbell."

"Ooh, the doorbell. I feel just like a V.I.P.," he teased. Claire shoved him playfully and he fell back onto her bed. "Are you still planning on introducing me to the parental unit, then?" he asked.

Claire plopped down next to him. "Yeah, they want to meet you. Well, technically, I guess they want to meet Brian. Ugh," she sighed, "I'm not looking forward to explaining this to my mom, especially after that whole Parker mess. She's going to think I tricked her."

"Maybe I should sneak in after all," John said under his breath.

"No, you can't. I don't want to have to hide you forever."

John shrugged. "It's worked so far."

"I'm getting tired of sneaking around though," Claire admitted. She glanced down at him. "Don't you have to leave?"

"Yeah, but now I'm comfortable," he replied, tucking an arm under his head.

" C'mon," she said, grabbing his other arm, trying to pull him up, "You have to leave before my parents get home anyway."

"You said that your father won't be home for another hour," he reminded her, easily resisting her efforts.

"What about band practice? You don't want to upset Eric."

John relented and allowed Claire to pull him into to a sitting position. "Yeah, he'll wring my neck if I'm late again tonight." He stood up and was about to head for the door, when Claire's sudden exclamation stopped him.

"Wait!" She walked over to her dresser and pulled a small box out of one of the drawers. "I just remembered this."

"You're only going down to the front door, you don't have to get dressed up," he said impatiently.

"Do you really think I'm that vain?"

"Do you really think I'd be standing here if I did?"

Claire rolled her eyes at him out of annoyance. "You kind of killed the moment, but I wanted to show you this," she said, walking back over to John with the box. "I dropped it off at the jeweler's a while ago, but I didn't pick it up until last weekend."

She lifted up the lid to reveal a single diamond attached to a delicate white gold chain. Seeing the look of confusion on his face, she explained, "It was my diamond earring. I had it re-set it so I could wear it as a necklace." She opened her hand and showed him the other diamond, still an earring. "This one's yours," she said. "It always was."

John looked down at the earring resting on Claire's palm. He had always regretted giving it back to her the way he did after she had so selflessly given it to him. He was almost afraid to take it back. Afraid that he would have to acknowledge what it meant this time around.

Claire seemed to sense his hesitation. "I want you to keep it this time," she said. "No matter what happens, it's yours. Maybe it'll remind you that you're not worthless and that you have someone in this world who cares about you."

John stared at Claire in awe and realized for the first time that the feeling he had been so reluctant to put a name on, the feeling that he felt towards Claire, was love. He was in love with her. The rich, innocent princess that he met by chance in detention had finally defeated the big, tough criminal. He gently took the earring from her and replaced it in his ear.

Claire admired it with a smile. "It looks good on you."

John kissed her, hoping it would show her how he felt, because he sure as hell couldn't tell her. From the look Claire was giving him though, he knew she understood. He was afraid she might actually cry. He broke the moment before he turned into a complete sap and said, "Alright, let's go."

Claire walked John downstairs and as they were passing through the foyer, the front door opened, causing them both to freeze in their tracks. Mr. Standish entered, fifty minutes early. Claire was going to have to introduce John to her father now, whether she wanted to or not.

"Hi Honey," Mr. Standish cheerfully greeted Claire. His gaze landed on John and he regarded him with curiosity. "Who's this?"

"Daddy, this is John."

"Charles Standish," he held out his hand and John shook it. "You look familiar, have we met before?"

"No," John replied.

"Are you sure? Maybe I've just seen you around the club then."

"No, his parents aren't members," Claire told him. "We met at school."

Mr. Standish smiled. "Ahh, yes, I remember now. You were the young man who was with Claire when I came to pick her up after her detention."

"That was him," Claire admitted, embarrassed that her father had seen them kissing.

"And you've been together all this time?" Mr. Standish was confused.

"Sort of," she replied.

He suddenly understood. "You wouldn't happen to be the Fender boy that my wife was so worried about, would you?" he asked John.

"Bender, but yeah, I guess I am."

Mr. Standish laughed. "Good, good. She's going to hate this." Then he stopped smiling. "Oh. That's a problem, isn't it?"

Claire nodded. "I don't know how I'm going to tell her."

"My wife is a bit tricky to deal with," Mr. Standish explained to John. "If you see her, it's best just to run in the opposite direction." A ringing phone caught his attention. "That'll be my partner, wondering why I haven't called to tell him how the case went today. I'm glad I finally got the chance to meet you, John. I trust that you'll see Claire safely home from the prom?"

John looked to Claire, not knowing how to answer. Luckily, she jumped in and saved him.

"Daddy, John would never let anything happen to me."

"That's right, sir," John added helpfully.

"Wonderful. I'll leave you two kids to your plans then, and I'll see you tomorrow night."

XXX

There was a cool breeze blowing on Saturday evening and Claire shivered as she waited outside for her ride. She shifted her wrap to better cover her shoulders and looked down to admire her dress again. She had found exactly what she was looking for in the shop of one of her favorite designers. It was a pale blue, strapless gown with a sweetheart neckline and a full skirt. The bodice looked like a corset and the skirt was decorated with hundreds of tiny rhinestones. Her new necklace added the final touch. When she had looked in the mirror earlier, she finally felt like the princess John had always called her.

Claire's parents had joined her outside so that they could see her off, and while she appreciated the gesture, she was beginning to wish they hadn't bothered.

"I don't like that you're picking your date up and I haven't met him," Mrs. Standish fretted. "This never would've happened if you were going with Parker. This is all your doing, isn't it, Charles?" she asked her husband.

"Oh, no you don't," Mr. Standish replied. "Don't blame me if Claire finally came to her senses. I'll bet that Parker is just as arrogant and self-entitled as his father. I don't know why you'd want our daughter to date someone like that."

"I want what's best for her. You'd let her date a criminal if she wanted to."

"At least she'd be happy. For Christ's sake, Helen, she had to spend the night at Rick's apartment because she was too afraid to tell you they broke up! Hell, you even drove Rick away! He couldn't wait to move out on his own, who's fault is that? How much longer until Claire leaves us too?"

"My fault? You're the one that spoils them both. Don't think I don't know that you helped finance that dingy room that Rick calls home. And now, you rented this ridiculous car for Claire!" She gestured at the limo that had just pulled up in front of them.

"I just thought that the kids would like to arrive in style," he said.

"Ha!"

Mr. Standish rubbed his temples. "Do we have to do this now? I'm sure Claire doesn't want to hear us fighting on her special night."

"Fine. I need a drink anyway," she said. She turned to Claire before going back inside, "Don't forget, I expect to be introduced to your date the moment you come home."

XXX

John sat down on his bed on Saturday evening. He picked up his guitar and started playing in an effort to keep occupied until he had to leave. Moments later, he looked up at the clock. Six more hours until Claire's party started. He looked over at the tuxedo, still hanging on the back of his door, and frowned at it. The stuffy shirt, the fancy trousers, the tie that would no doubt choke him if he tried to tie it… No. There was no way he was wearing that. And he had no reason to. He was absolutely not going to the prom. Claire wasn't expecting him, so she wasn't going to be disappointed when he didn't show up.

He shook his head and went back to playing. Twelve minutes later, he looked up at the clock again. Time was moving incredibly slowly. He put his guitar down in frustration and stretched out on his bed. He tried to picture what the others were doing. He imagined that when Claire went to pick up Brian, his parents would've tried to come along with them. Or better yet, Brian would be wearing some hideous outfit that his mom picked out that probably came with a top hat and cane. John chuckled at the mental image that created. Andy and Allison were probably laughing while Claire was trying to figure out how to do damage control. His hand went subconsciously to his earlobe and he twisted the diamond stud between his fingers.

"Fuck," he swore out loud.

XXX

The limo driver took Claire to Allison's house next, since she lived nearby. She was waiting on her front porch, but her parents were nowhere to be seen. Claire waved when the limo pulled up and Allison smiled and took a picture. She really seemed to be excited to be going to the prom after all.

After Allison, they picked up Andy. Claire hung back while Mr. Clark took pictures of Andy and Allison. Mrs. Clark was telling them how to pose. Claire knew that Andy's father had been unhappy to hear about Allison at first. He even went so far as to blame her for Andy quitting the wrestling team. The last she had heard, though, was that he was finally starting to get over his anger. Claire took his presence outside as a good sign. When Mrs. Clark finally thought they had enough pictures, she let Andy and Allison get in the limo.

The last stop before school was Brian's house. As they pulled up out front, they saw Mrs. Johnson fussing over his appearance. Claire was relieved when she saw that he actually looked normal. In fact, she almost didn't recognize him. He looked like a different person in his tux and definitely seemed more confident.

The trio got out of the limo and introduced themselves to the Johnson family. Brian's little sister looked like she couldn't believe that her brother was really going to the prom in a limo with a girl. Mrs. Johnson enthusiastically greeted Claire. Brian had told Claire that his mom thought they were a couple despite him denying it, so Claire was not surprised when Mrs. Johnson asked if she was planning on going to Northwestern so that she could be close to Brian. Claire was trying to think up a polite response when Mr. Johnson saved her by suggesting they all pose for a group picture. Fifteen minutes later, after the one group picture had turned into many pictures, mostly of Brian and Claire, the group was finally on the road and headed to the prom.

XXX

John passed by his parents in the kitchen on his way out of the house. His father was sitting at the table with the evening newspaper and his mother must have been in a rare good mood because she was cooking. She called out to him when she heard him go by.

"Come, sit down, Johnny. Supper's almost ready."

John actually found himself wishing that he could, but it was too late, he had already made up his mind. He stopped and entered the room, telling her with a twinge of regret, "I can't. I'm going out tonight."

Mrs. Bender turned from the stove and squealed in delight when she saw how John was dressed. "Ooh, look at you! You look just like your father did when he came to pick me up for our first dance."

John's father lowered the newspaper and gave John a once over. He frowned at his appearance. "He looks like a goddamn bum."

"Well, I think he looks handsome," Mrs. Bender said to her husband. She turned to John, "Don't mind what Dad says, he was just as rough around the edges as you before the war."

"The army would do him good," his father commented as he went back to his newspaper. "Force him to get a haircut."

"So who's the lucky girl?" his mother asked. "Someone from school?"

"Yeah."

"Tell her to come over sometime, I'll make dinner."

"Sure," he said, even though he knew his mom would forget about the offer as soon as she popped her next batch of pills. He started to walk away when his father called out to him.

"Hey! Be smart, boy. I don't wanna have to hear about how you knocked up some girl. Or then you'll really be out on your ass. Understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Have fun!" his mom cheerfully called after him.

As John walked to school, he felt thankful that he hadn't been talked into renting uncomfortable dress shoes. He wasn't lying when he told Andy that he had other shoes. He just left out the part about them being a pair of black Chuck Taylors. They probably would have looked ridiculous with the tux if John hadn't made the few modifications that he did.

He had been dressed in the whole outfit at first, but then he couldn't remember how to tie the tie. And without the tie, the shirt looked stupid, so he happily took it off too. Instead he opted to wear a plain black t-shirt underneath his tuxedo jacket. He thought it looked good. He just hoped that Claire would appreciate his style.

When John entered the crowded gym, he panicked slightly. He was not used to this scene. He passed by plenty of unfamiliar couples as he looked around for anyone he recognized. Finally, he decided to stand off to the side by the refreshments table for a few minutes so he could get a better view of the crowd. To his dismay, a small group of girls gathered near him to gossip. He tried to tune them out as he watched the dance floor, but it wasn't working.

"Oh my God! Your corsage is so beautiful!" one of the girls exclaimed.

The second girl held up her wrist and admired her flowers. "I know, isn't it? James totally surprised me with it."

"I wish Adam had gotten me roses," another girl complained.

"Really? But your lilies are so pretty," the second girl said.

"You think so?" the girl asked.

"Definitely," the others reassured her.

"I heard that Kelly's boyfriend didn't even get her a corsage," the first girl commented.

"No way!" yet another girl exclaimed. "What kind of guy doesn't bring his date flowers? She should totally dump him."

John rolled his eyes. He had to get away from them before his brain melted. As he was about to relocate, the song ended and he saw Claire coming toward him with Brian in tow.

"I'm going to get something to drink," she was telling Brian. "Do you want any—"

John heard Claire's voice hitch in her throat the moment she saw him standing in front of her. She stared at him in disbelief and he thought she looked beautiful, like a real princess. "I didn't get you flowers," he said stupidly. For some reason it was the only thing he could think of to say.

"I don't care," she laughed, throwing her arms around him as her tears began to fall.

John held her close for a moment, ignoring the looks he was getting from the group of girls. A slow song started to play and he let Claire go, instead taking her by the hand. "C'mon, Cinderella, the least I can do is give you one dance tonight with your Prince Charming. I'm only offering this once, too, so you better take advantage of it." Claire happily let him lead the way.

Andy and Allison came over to join Brian and they all watched the unlikely couple disappear onto the dance floor. "Are you going to be okay with this?" Andy asked Brian.

"Yeah," Brian grinned, "He's Claire's rightful date anyway."

"You look amazing by the way," Claire said once they were alone. "Those girls were definitely drooling over you."

"Damn straight they were," John said cockily.

"Thank you for coming," she said softly. "You didn't have to, you know."

"I know, but I figured this could be my one and only chance to ride in a limo."

Claire saw right through his statement. "You felt left out, didn't you?"

"Pfft," John replied unconvincingly.

Claire smiled and rested her head on John's shoulder as they swayed in time to the music. Him being there with her had made the night perfect. But with that one realization, Claire began to think that it all might be too good to be true. "Maybe you shouldn't have come after all."

"You'd rather be dancing with Brian?"

"No, but right now everything is completely perfect."

John knew she must be thinking back to their conversation in the diner. "Don't worry about what I said. We'll be fine," he told her, feeling like for one night he could believe in fairytale endings. "The only thing that makes tonight different from all the rest is that we're together with everyone. And there's going to be pizza. Also, Brian probably forgot his toothbrush again, so we'll get to tease him about that." Claire giggled and he continued, "But like I said, tonight's just another night. At some point we'll fall asleep and when we wake up we'll live our lives like any other day. No regrets."

Claire lifted her head and looked at him strangely. "Were you always this smart, or does that tuxedo have magical powers?"

John shrugged. "I could be completely wrong," he conceded.

"Oh?" she questioned.

"Yeah," he said with a smirk, "When midnight comes around, we might just turn into pumpkins."

* * *

A/N: I can't believe it's really over. I've had so much fun writing this story that I'm almost sad to let the characters go. But, before I do go, I want to say a gigantic thank you to everyone who read and reviewed Look My Way. I can't even express how wonderful it's been to read all of your kind words.


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